The Fellowship of the Ring : Unrealistic Tales
by Stelf
Summary: We are all familiar with the journey of the ring, however certain bits were omitted from the book and film! UPDATED: Inept ranger, Strider leads the hobbit into the wilds....
1. They took my spoons!

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. If I did I would be rich.  
  
"You're late!", exclaimed Frodo  
  
Gandalf looked up at the hobbit that stood with hands on hips with an air of deep self satisfaction. Frodo was postured in a way that suggested he'd just conquered something and was feeling very smug about it. This hobbit was getting above himself it seemed, "A wizard is never late", Gandalf ground out. Frodo and Gandalf stared at each other as if in a contest. (one in which Frodo would have won if the wizard had not set fire to his shirt). A lick of flame suddenly appeared on Frodo's right sleeve.  
  
"Agh! Gandalf, you bastard! Frodo screamed flailing his arm madly  
  
"Ho-ho-ho" Frodo ran in circles waving his arm like a windmill then stopped, and with the cry of "Aaaaaaaaaargh!", ran towards Gandalf. The Wizard realizing Frodo was about to jump to his cart shouted "Yar", and snapped the reins. His Horse started with a jerk. The cart moved just in time as Frodo, desperate as his arm was now a torch, had jumped at Gandalf with the thought of "at least I'm taking you with me!", missed the wizard and landed in his trailer of fireworks. BOOM!!! What followed was the most spectacular, if short fireworks display ever seen in the Shire. (it was a shame no one actually witnessed it apart from two near by sparrows and a butterfly who didn't fully appreciate it. Also one of the sparrows was hit by a rocket and the butterfly was left deeply traumatised) Needless to say Frodo and Gandalf were killed outright.  
  
Although this quite obviously did not happen, it does highlight how the journey of the ring would have been cut abruptly short if Gandalf had been a bad man.  
  
"They took my spoons!" Part 1  
  
A little known fact is the same day Gandalf visited his old friend Bilbo regarding his party, much more than a friendly chat over a cup of tea happened. As a matter of fact an awesome adventure involving Gandalf and Bilbo was omitted from the book and film. Well an adventure.....but one worth telling. Just.  
  
"More tea?", Bilbo asked, holding his ornate teapot  
  
"Oh, no thanks......Ho-ho-ho", Gandalf put down his cup and surveyed his surroundings. He liked Bag End. It was all very homely right down to the family portraits and log fire. Bilbo's past adventure had left him extremely rich and although he didn't flaunt this it was quite visible in the finery of his cutlery, ornaments and his lovely wooden flooring. Yes, the wizard thought not bad for a hobbit whose name rhymes with dildo. "You know", Bilbo said, "This is gonna be one hell of a party tonight, a matter of fact it will be a party of-"  
  
"Special Magnificence", Gandalf finished for him wearily. "I know" The Wizard took out his crumpled invite from the folds of his robes.  
  
The Invitation read like this.....  
  
PARTY!!!!  
Of Special Magnificence!  
And You're Invited!  
  
Gandalf that party I planned is going ahead  
I expect it will be truly Wizard!  
(Bilbo's Idea of Hummour)  
  
PS. bring fireworks  
  
"Did you fetch that big one?", Bilbo mumbled though a wedge of cheese  
  
"The dragon?"  
  
"Hmm"  
  
"Oh yes I brought it"  
  
Bilbo hopped up and down in excitement, "This is going to be great"  
  
"Yes", said Gandalf gravely "It will be cracking! Ho-ho-ho"  
  
"It'll be something alright." agreed Bilbo, "Oh, Frodo will be expecting strippers of course", Bilbo said waving his hands dismissively, "but you gotta go for the real thing nowadays. Nothing like a good bang!"  
  
Gandalf spat his tea out. "Bilbo Baggines I did not think you went in for those sort of party's!"  
  
"What do you me-", Someone suddenly gave Bilbo's door a good hammering and the cheese he was eating promptly joined Gandalf's tea on the floor. "It's the second Bagginsses!", Bildo hissed, "Quick we must hide in the cellar!"  
  
The hobbit made a quick dash from the kitchen leaving Gandalf to follow at a more elderly pace, "Ho-ho-ho" He said. Bildo jumped into the cellar from his staircase and came out in a professional roll where he crouched holding the door. "Com'on!", he whispered urgently making waving gestures as Gandalf doddered down the narrow staircase. The Wizards movement was severely hampered by a low ceiling. He hit his head on a wood beam, and three brass pans in succession (with a sound like ping, bing, bong) which were inexplicably hanging from the roof. Gandalf did not forget to say Ho- ho-ho in all of these situations. At last he made it to the cellar where he was bungled in by a frantic Bilbo who quickly slammed the door.  
  
The hobbit and wizard were plunged into darkness. "I think I broke my spine again", complained Gandalf rubbing his back, "Ho-ho-ho". (although you wouldn't have been able to see him rubbing his back, take it from me, he did). The two sat in silence for a bit while they listened to the second Bagginnsses shouting from outside. Bilbo gasped in terror. "Look", said Gandalf, "you don't think you're overreacting do you? I mean we could have just hid under the table or something"  
  
"They took my silver spoons last time.....who knows what their capable of this time!" Bilbo whimpered. Gandalf was starting to worry about his friend's sanity. Then to the wizards further annoyance Bilbo began to scrabble around, throwing boxes and clothing up in a desperate attempt to find something. "Bilbo please desist, and tell me what's going on!", Gandalf commanded while a dusty warhammer rules book narrowly missed his head.  
  
"Well....I er........There it is!"  
  
"What is?"  
  
"The trap door to my emergency escape tunnel. Come on we must escape!"  
  
Gandalf was taken aback somewhat. He hadn't expected that. Somehow he'd expected Bilbo to go all quiet and mutter "my precious". It appeared Bilbo's unnatural fear of the second Bagginnses had gone beyond a phobia and into a phobium (what happens when a group of like minded phobias decide to join forces.) Bilbo now equated the second Bagginsses with spiders, dragons, trolls, castration, star trek, dwarfs singing about gold and persistent relatives. With all of these fears bundled into one monster- fear you can see why Bilbo had gone temporarily mad.  
  
"M-Must be quick now hurry down into the tunnel!"  
  
Gandalf scratched his head (again you will have to take this on faith) and said, "Bilbo, have you gone utterly mad? I'm not going down there. For one thing I can't see where "there" is" At this moment the faint cry of "I know you're in there" reached our two heroes' in the cellar. With a fearful cry Bilbo dived into his tunnel. Gandalf sighed, "well he may have gone insane but I for one am leaving", he mumbled to himself. He wished he hadn't left his staff on the table. Using his hands to feel the surroundings Gandalf stood up and promptly hit his head (although he was no longer in a good mood, neglecting to say ho-ho-ho on principle). He tried again, this time compensating for the roof by awkwardly bending his back. Being in total darkness can have a disorientating effect and so with hands outstretched Gandalf wandered away from the door and into a box of apples, several stacked wine barrels and something warm and furry which Gandalf did not even want to guess at before he fell into Bilbo's tunnel.  
  
Gandalf opened his eyes. The panicky hobbit had lit a match whose flickery light was just enough to see by. The "tunnel" was actually just a small hollowed out circle. Being dug out of the Shire's fertile soil the hole smelled damp and earthy, it was also slightly colder than the cellar but what annoyed Gandalf was that he only had room to crawl and that meant to get out he'd have to go feet first (would be undignified for a wizard). Bilbo sat in its centre holding a strange silver palantir shaped orb in shaking hands. Normally such a blatantly magical looking object would have interested Gandalf but he was far too angry for that. "Bilbo Bagginness! When I get hold of my staff you better wish......er ", Gandalf couldn't actually think of a way to end that sentence so he simply shouted, "I'm going to turn you into a newt!" Bilbo leaned closer, singeing Gandalf's beard in the process, "Are you okay?"  
  
"GAAAARHH!!", the wizard growled Bilbo jumped back.  
  
"If my estimates are correct, the second bagginess's will be upon us any minute! Which means we must leave now!"  
  
"GAAAARHH!!"  
  
Bilbo looked dreamily into the mists of his orb. "Uh-oh", he said.  
  
No sooner had Bilbo uttered those doom-laden words than the hobbit plus furious istari were temporarily blinded by a white flash followed by a whirling sound and other pyrotechniques. (also the screen shook a little as well, confirming that something strange was happening).  
  
An explanation is probably necessary at this point. Bilbo's silver orb was in fact none other than the fabled "super" palantir. A normal palantir or "seeing stone" allowed its user to communicate with other palantir owners for 12 gold coins a month, allowing unlimited access throughout weekends and evenings. Using a palantir at any other time meant you were liable to pay an outrageous three silver coins per minute and a turnip. Communication was achieved by simply looking into the said object. However its inventors, who will remain nameless (because no one can remember who invented them) wanted to go a step further. The "super" palantir was able to magically transport its user (and immediate surroundings) to the location of another palantir. Someone suitably proficient in magic could also bend the "super" palantir to his/her will by simply imagining their destination. Bildo had come across this priceless item inside Smaugs Lair amongst the dragons gold. He had picked it up quite innocently because he liked the colour. Unfortunately for Bilbo, Gandalf, the escape tunnel, part of the cellar and that strange furry thing the palantirs current messaging service looked like this....  
  
Sauron the deceiver - Online  
  
To be continued......... 


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. I do however own an empty can of "Forum" - discount german lager, purchased for 70 cents from a sweaty supermarket in Crete.  
  
Authors Note: I got one review, hurrah for Velossian! Does any one else read these? If you do, tell me what you think, even if you think I'm sinking into all new depths of fanfic badness. (For those who don't think this - just wait for part 3).  
  
"They took my spoons" Part2  
  
The palantir dropped from Bilbo's limp grasp with an earthy thud whilst behind him the soil wall crumbled away. Bilbo turned slowly around and to his astonishment found he was looking at an unusual landscape. Surely that wasn't right. I should be underground he thought. Why was he here? Wherever "here" was. Dislodging more of his wall to give him a better view, Bilbo looked up at a blanket of dark clouds, they growled with thunder and crackled as lightening scarred their surface. Lava fumes spiralled into the choked air adding their own orange haze to the surreal landscape. In the distance shadow-like jagged mountains punctured the sky. It didn't look friendly. "What in Eru have you done Bilbo?" The confused hobbit jumped to find Gandalf next to him. "Gandalf How did you get here?! I-I mean how did we get here?"  
  
The wizard crawled up to him and picked up the silver palantir. As Gandalf turned it in his hands he realised it had gone a dull grey colour and there was no longer any swirly mist effects. "I don't remember how we got here you see........one minute we're talking about my party over a civilised cup of tea.....the next...." he trailed off.  
  
Deep inside Bilbo's pocket the one ring made itself small and tried to look innocent. Gandalf looked up holding the grey orb "this might have something to do with it"  
  
"That? I thought it was a snow dome." (Bilbo had shook it quite vigorously in the past, afterwards he concluded it wasn't working properly and had stored it away in the cellar without a second thought)  
  
"Either way lets have a look out here", Bilbo's said, his naturally inquisitive nature returning. Gandalf sighed. Well, it was much better than the paranoid Bilbo of a few minutes ago.  
  
Inside the pocket of Bilbo's finely embroidered waist coat the ring waited...It would soon be reunited with its master.  
  
A few seconds after struggling through the opening Gandalf realized the he was in big trouble. The hobbit and wizard stood on a circle of polished black stone which by the look of surrounding mountains was quite high up indeed. Gandalf apprehensively looked over the edge of the circle. He almost threw up. Thousands of torches moved on walkways as pinpricks of light. Others cast their small fiery glow over dozens of black turrets pointing like needles below him. Sounds of an army at work, mining, tempering steel and what might be a karaoke night drifted up to him. Below the towers lava streams threaded their way through the desolate landscape like a spider webs. What really worried Gandalf however was a massive fiery eye to his right.  
  
"HELLO"  
  
When neither of the two cowering friends replied the dark lord Sauron said  
  
"WELCOME TO BARA-DUR, I HARDLY EVER GET VISITORS"  
  
Gandalf was the first to recover; he was in the presence of Sauron himself and without his staff! Obviously he needed to plan a quick escape. Stall for time! Was all he could think of. "Greetings great eye! Lidless, wreathed in flame!" Gandalf made worshipful motions with his arms.  
  
"YES, YES...... DARK LORD THIS AND GREAT DECEIVER THAT, I GET IT ALL THE TIME .....VERY TIRESOME"  
  
"Please accept my humble apology's oh fiery one", he said kneeling in supplication. Gandalf desperately searched his mind for some spark of genius. He didn't find anything. "Erm... this is", he said indicating Bilbo's prone form who was too scared to move, "my good friend Bilbo Baggins"  
  
"DID YOU SAY BAGGINS!!!"  
  
"Y-You know me?" quavered Bilbo, "because I don't think we've met a- and.....I'm sure I would have remembered ... meeting an eye so er impressively....er....."  
  
"Flame wreathed", put in Gandalf helpfully  
  
"Yes"  
  
"I DO NOT KNOW YOU. HOWEVER I WAS UNCERTAIN AS TO WETHER YOU SAID YOU'RE NAME WAS FAGGINSS OR BAGGINSS. THAT IS WHY I ASKED. IF IT HAD BEEN FAGGINNESS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FUNNY. WOULD IT NOT?"  
  
Gandalf and Bilbo exchanged a wooden glance before they both said "Oh yes, very funny. Very funny indeed....ha ha"  
  
YES, FUNNY HAHAHAHA"  
  
"Ha....ha....ha" (Gandalf and Bilbo's laughter was so wooden that at that same moment a group of tree's vanished from the woods of Lorien)  
  
"HAHA....HMMM...."  
  
"Mmmm"  
  
Both parties's stopped laughing eventually. Bilbo shuffled nervously and looked at his feet. Whereas Gandalf started picking at a bit of dried mud from his robe. Both were sweating. This was mainly due to being in the close proximity of a fiery eye. The eye itself seemed to move its obsidian pupil to look at Mount Doom. An embarrassed silence followed where everyone tried to think of something to say.  
  
"So....." said Bilbo  
  
The eye refocused on its visitors. "YES?"  
  
Bilbo hadn't actually planned ahead, ".........interesting weather you get here", he said after a moment's deliberation.  
  
"OH YES, ITS LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME"  
  
".......Well at least its predictable.....not like in the Shire, eh Gandalf?" Bilbo nudged the wizard  
  
"Oh..... no, sun one minute, showers the next.....ho-ho-ho"  
  
It must be hard, reflected Gandalf, being a large eye. "I suppose you don't get out much?"  
  
"NO"  
  
Silence again. Time passed slowly, like constipation.  
  
"THIS IS NICE ISN'T IT? I MEAN A CULTURED CONVERSATION BETWEEN FRIENDS EH?"  
  
"Yes nice, very nice", said the two visitors together  
  
There was another pause. Gandalf used this opportunity to get off his aching knees. The great eye swivelled its black pupil, "WHAT IS THAT!?" It demanded. Gandalf and Bilbo turned rather sheepishly to survey a mound of dirt attached to what looked like Bilbo's cellar. The "super" palantir transported it's immediate surroundings, and so a small chunk of the shire was now languishing atop the tower of Bara-dur. It looked out of place. The flames of Saurons eye darkened, "WHO IN MORDOR PUT ALL THAT CRAP THERE!?" Bilbo was slightly offended that his cellar had been referred to as "crap" and was about to say so. Luckily Gandalf's wizard senses forewarned him. He stood on Bilbo's toe. "Ahg-"  
  
"What my friend means", said Gandalf continuing to squash Bilbo's foot, "is that we saw a group of orcs put that there earlier as.....a gift."  
  
"WHAT! WHY WOULD I WANT A PILE OF SOIL?"  
  
That's what I told them oh great eye but-"  
  
"WHO LEFT IT? I SHALL MELT THE PERPETRATOR FOR THIS INSULT!"  
  
Gandalf had to think quickly whilst under pressure which is why he said "John". This was foolish of the old wizard because as is common knowledge "John" is not a common name in Mordor. Here people have orc names because they are mainly orcs.  
  
The following are popular orc names.....  
  
Shagga Shagag Shagbag Shagrack Shagsheep Shaggamuffin Peter  
  
"JOHN?"  
  
"er.... Shagjohn!" Gandalf quickly amended.  
  
The great eye considered this for a moment, "OH", it said, "HIM"  
  
The wizard and hobbit breathed out a sigh of relief. They weren't going to get melted....yet.  
  
"IF ONLY I COULD AFFORD SOMETHING OTHER THAN DUMB ORCS!"  
  
Sauron's pupil focused accusingly on Gandalf and Bilbo (This was because, if you haven't already guessed, the eye had assumed our two hero's to be orcs. If you didn't guess then don't worry because Gandalf and Bilbo didn't know at this point either. Although Gandalf will realize in a few paragraphs, Bilbo however will probably not.)  
  
"I MEAN", the dark lord continued, "HAVE THEY EVER WON ME A BATTLE? NO! I COULD SEND A HUGE ARMY OF 'EM AGAINST A COUPLE OF RABBITS AND THEY'D STILL COME BACK DEFEATED"  
  
Gandalf and Bilbo nodded in sympathy.  
  
"YOU WOULDN'T BELEIVE WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAST ALLIENCE BETWEEN ELVES AND MEN", the great eye continued to drone, "TALK ABOUT FALLING ON YOUR OWN SWORDS! IT WAS LIKE A RACE TO SEE WHO COULD GET SLAYED THE QUICKIST"  
  
At that moment Gandalf's mind put the finishing touches to a plan of escape. It wasn't complicated. They would make a dash for Bilbo's cellar, once inside he would take the "super" palantir (for Gandalf had now realized what it was) and attempt to bend it to his will. He only hoped it had turned back from its dull grey state by now.  
  
"er, I'm afraid we must be going", said Gandalf, "You know how it is..... rushed off you're feet", He instantly realized he'd said something stupid.  
  
"I WOULDN'T KNOW", Sauron said, sounding slightly hurt. "BEING A BIG EYE ISN'T AS MUCH FUN AS IT SOUNDS"  
  
"At least the views good", Bilbo piped up while rubbing his toe.  
  
Dark Lord Sauron reflected for a moment, "THERE IS THAT", he conceded.  
  
It is worth knowing that Sauron didn't originally want to be a Dark Lord. He had really wanted to go into clowning. Somewhere along the line he'd lost sight of this. Maybe he should have listened to his mum when she said Morgoth was a bad influence. He blinked sadly, baggy pants, face paint, custard pies....it was a world he'd never know.  
  
"OH WELL, BACK TO WORK THEN MY LITTLE ORCSY'S"  
  
He thinks we're orcs! Thought Gandalf. Well that explained a lot, such as his and Bilbo's continuing existence. Maybe his eye-sight wasn't that good. Gandalf however was not about to correct him.  
  
"We're not orcs", said Bilbo happily, "I'm a hobbit and he's a wizard" 


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, in any shape or form. The only thing I own is this plot, which I am in no hurry to claim...  
  
Foreword..Ok this is the final part to the first tale. The last chapter closed with an ill timed comment from Bilbo, can Gandalf save the situation in time? Read on..  
  
"They took my spoons" Part 3  
  
Gandalf was at that moment overcome with a strong desire to disembowel Bilbo with a silver spoon. There was only one possible way to save the situation. The wizard looped his arm around Bilbo and playfully punched him on the arm, "ah he's just playing with ya Sauron, always the joker aren't you?"  
  
he turned to Bilbo with a murderous glint in his eye.  
  
"...yes", the confused hobbit said, "just joking"  
  
Gandalf tried to keep a playful grin on his face as the eye narrowed somewhat. After several tense seconds of close scrutiny it started to laugh.  
  
"HAHAHAHAHA"  
  
"Ha...ha...ha"  
  
"PRESENT MY GIFT THEN, AND YOU CAN GO MY FRIENDS"  
  
"Gift?"  
  
The eye began to narrow again. "ALL VISITORS ARE NOT TO ALLOWED TO LEAVE MY PRESENCE WITHOUT A GIFT!", the eye narrowed further, "BECAUSE OF THIS, I HAVE MELTED MANY FOOLISH ORCS!"  
  
"Off course, right away... er wont be a minute. I left it behind that pile of dirt", said Gandalf, "so it would be more of a surprise"  
  
The wizard backed slowly to the cellar under Saurons disapproving glare, "keep him occupied" he whispered to Bilbo on his way. The hobbit nodded and began telling an awful shire joke about a dwarf an elf and an Irish man. Meanwhile Gandalf crawled through Bilbo's escape room and picked up the "super" palantir. It had become a lighter colour with a few silvery strands wending their way through its depths. It looked a bit better.... it was no longer murky grey but Gandalf's wizard senses told him it needed a bit longer to charge. If only he could stall Sauron for a few more minutes. As it happened Bilbo seemed to be doing a good job of it as the dark lords laughter carried into the tunnel.  
  
"HAHAHAHAHA"  
  
"You're turn now", exclaimed Bilbo happily  
  
"WEL, ER IM NOT TOO GOOD AT TELLING JOKES.."  
  
Gandalf stopped listening and had an idea.... there was plenty of stuff in Bilbo's cellar, maybe he could find a suitable gift there and by the time he'd presented it the palantir would have re-charged. He scrambled with great difficulty up through the trap door and into the cellar. The Fire of Saurons eye allowed some light through the trap door and Gandalf was just able to make out his surroundings. He frowned, what in middle earth would be a suitable gift for a giant eye?  
  
"SO THIS GUY CROSSES THE ROAD..."  
  
Gandalf crawled on his hands and knee's desperately flinging aside various oddments including a rusty kettle, several weed pipes, a lump of mouldy cheese that smelled like old socks and a pair of old socks that smelled like mouldy cheese. He was beginning to panic, there was simply too much junk in here. None of it looked particularly useful to a fiery eye.  
  
"AND....OH YES! HE SAYS: "WHY HAVE I CROSSED THE ROAD?"  
  
"Aha!" Gandalf exclaimed, triumphantly brandishing a silver rimmed magnifying eyepiece. It came with a delicate silver chain so it could be worn as a monocle. Gandalf remembered Bilbo going through a brief phase where he wore the eyepiece all the time, however it had ended abruptly once he realised it made him look like a prat.  
  
"TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE!"  
  
This time Gandalf wisely used the cellar door which opened directly onto Bara dur tower (the door was deeply shocked at this).  
  
"OH! AND THE GUY WAS A CHICKEN"  
  
Bilbo made a feeble, choking laughter as Gandalf approached Sauron.  
  
"OH MY GIFT! ABOUT TIME! IT JUST BETTER NOT BE ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE DAMNED EYEPEICES"  
  
Gandalf froze.  
  
"BECAUSE IF IT IS...", Saurons eye fixed him with a suspicious glare on Gandalf, "I WILL HAVE NO FURTHER OPTION BUT TO MELT YOU.....AND ER.... PARTIALLY MELT YOU'RE FRIEND!"  
  
Gandalf looked at Bilbo. Bilbo looked at Gandalf. Sauron looked at both Gandalf and Bilbo. Eddie looked at Sauron. Once again the wizard had to think quickly. "Well.....", began Gandalf reluctantly, "I er..... hmmmm", suddenly an idea struck him (quite why this idea resorted to physical violence is unknown. Although it was probably to do with hormones.)  
  
"Its just that I needed some help", Gandalf began with a bit more confidence, "you see.....its a very big present....two man job actually"  
  
For a horrible moment Gandalf thought the eye would melt them.  
  
".........OOOH A BIG PRESENT!", the Dark Lord crooned, "HURRY, GO AND GET IT YOU TWO!"  
  
Bilbo sprang up and followed Gandalf around to the front of the cellar where they could use the door.  
  
"BE QUICK THOUGH..", Sauron added darkly  
  
They both quickened their pace. Gandalf rushed into the cellar, glanced at the palantir and groaned.  
  
"What's up?" said Bilbo who had by now recovered from the initial fear/shock of a giant talking eye  
  
composed of fire and was now happily relying on Gandalf to sort everything out.  
  
"We're screwed", muttered the wizard  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look", Gandalf thrust the palantir in front of Bilbo's nose, "its not charged yet!"  
  
"Oh....I thought we'd be escaping on eagles.....like usual"  
  
"Not this time I am afraid", Gandalf put the palantir down and sank to his knees, "the only way we're getting out of this mess....which is entirely you're fault by the way! Is by using the palantir to teleport us back"  
  
"but I don't know how to use it! Honestly Gandalf I remember having a nice cup of tea one minute and then I'm hear the next."  
  
Gandalf muttered "riddles in the dark"  
  
"What?"  
  
"A wise istari like my myself should be able to bend the palantir to my will but it needs more ti-"  
  
An ominous song reached their ears, "WHY ARE WE WAITING....WHY ARE WE WAITING..." Bilbo panicked, ran in circles around Gandalf and said things like "shit". Then, just as suddenly he stopped...... Bilbo had an idea...  
  
"If we jumped off the tower do you think there's a chance we'd land on a haystack?"  
  
Gandalf didn't answer. A smile slowly creased his wrinkled face. He'd had an idea too.... (The pair closed together and whispered frantically while the camera slowly pans outwards. What they were actually planning you do not find out. This is to add dramatic effect in the next scene)  
  
"THIS BETTER BE WORTH THE WAIT!", Sauron was starting to get angry, his patience was waning fast. If he didn't receive his present soon.....well not only would he melt these two orcs but he'd also cancel this seasons strawberry picking out of spite. "There you go" a voice said in the back of his mind (or in this case retina), "that's why you got into Dark Lording...."  
  
"What ho! Great eye we bring our gift!"  
  
Gandalf and Bilbo came into view each rolling a wine barrel.  
  
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!"  
  
They came to a stop in front of Sauron, "These are our gifts oh fiery one", said Gandalf rubbing his aching back Saurons eye narrowed, the flames darkened to blood-red and his obsidian pupil retracted in rage  
  
"But don't melt us now", continued Gandalf with a certain amount of smugness, "Give our gift time to... shall we say.....sink in. Now Bilbo!" For a moment Bilbo was once again the courageous adventurer who had fought trolls, giant spiders and outsmarted a dragon. With a heave he hefted his barrel up to his shoulder before hurling it straight into Saurons eye. The barrel splintered on contact as the gaffers "home brew" splashed into the flames. No sooner had the Dark Lord said "AAAAAGH!", than Bilbo seized the remaining barrel and flung it at the bewildered eye. The liquid hissed into the fire dousing flames to mere flickers of their former selves.  
  
"nooooooo.... look what you've done!", The great eye was now reduced to a hazy yellow ball, steam poured into the air and the obsidian pupil was now a small orange spark. Sauron tried to melt them...he really did. But all he managed to do was make Gandalf and Bilbo feel mildly warm.  
  
"Oh... don't wine,,,", said Bilbo  
  
"you will pay for this insult! you-"  
  
"I don't think so", Gandalf cut him off, he scratched his beard triumphantly, "you see me and my friend must be leaving now.....we can see you have come down with some sort of... ale- meant", Gandalf was starting to enjoy himself..  
  
"you wont get far! already my nazgul are on their way they will-"  
  
"Come along Bilbo", they walked calmly towards the cellar leaving Sauron to ferment in his own anger.  
  
"aaaaarrgghhh!"  
  
"Lets hurry up Gandalf.... I can't beer this screaming"  
  
Gandalf chuckled, "Well said Bilbo", They high fived.  
  
Back inside the cellar, shadows danced in the silver light of a fully charged "super" palantir. "Alright now", Gandalf sat down and stared into its silvery mists. Bilbo stood opposite with fingers crossed. The wizard muttered to himself, his forehead lined with effort. Outside Sauron was still screaming profanity's. Suddenly the room was filled with a sucking noise followed by a white flash that near blinded Bilbo. Then he was shook off his feet. There was a loud smash as the palantir exploded into splinters of glass, Gandalf said "umph", as Bilbo careened into him, then all was silent.  
  
Sauron was not happy. He had tried to make friends but alas it had all gone wrong as usual. Maybe, he considered, he was just not a "people person". The first Nazgul landed his dragon next to Sauron and dropped from his saddle with a metallic clank. He turned to regard the distressed looking eye.  
  
"Masssster what hasss happened?"  
  
"two thugs threw ale in my eye and teleported away inside a mound of dirt"  
  
The Nazgul cast a glance across the spotless roof of Bara-dur as two more wraiths appeared and began to circle the tower. "Are youss feeling well massster?"  
  
The great eye tried to flare in anger but only managed an ambiguous orange colour. The Nazgul looked confused. Sauron decided he wanted to be alone. "haven't you lot got a ring of power to find?"  
  
The Nazgul knew when it was being dismissed and mounted his dragon. Sauron watched as the wraith lifted into the air to join its fellows. "oh! and-", Sauron shouted as the three Nazgul resumed their search, "this seasons strawberry picking is cancelled!"  
  
The Nazgul, now three dots on the horizon hissed "Awwww....."  
  
It wasn't much, Sauron knew... but it made him feel a little better.  
  
Bilbo had closed his eyes. He was almost afraid to open the them. Where would he be now? Had they made it back to Hobbiton? Or was he now stuck in an even worse place....  
  
There are not many worse places to be than Bara-dur tower, however these three locations come pretty close.....  
  
The Dead Marshes - truly horrible The Barrow Downs - full of mist (the damp swirly kind) Bradford - truly horrible  
  
One thing Bilbo was certain - he was no longer in the cellar. The cellar didn't have carpet. The carpet talked, "Get off my beard!" Bilbo sprang back up as Gandalf got to his feet with a groan. They were indeed back in the cellar. It was dark and familiarly cluttered. Shards of the broken palantir glowed like stars across the floor. "Did we make it back Gandalf?"  
  
The wizard shrugged, "I tried to visualise Bag End, but the strain that put on the palantir was immense... maybe we completed the journey, maybe we didn't"  
  
They both turned slowly to face the door. "On three", said Gandalf  
  
Bilbo nodded. "One....two...three"  
  
The cellar door opened slowly with much creaking to prolong the tension. Gandalf and Bilbo made sucking noises as they withheld their breath. The door continued opening. Gandalf and Bilbo continued holding their breath. The door opened some more....  
  
"Wheeeeeeee!", Bilbo clapped  
  
"Ho-ho-ho", chuckled Gandalf  
  
They had arrived back at Bag End and just in time for the party.  
  
Deep inside Bilbo's pocket the ring suddenly awoke. It had been having the nicest dream about being forged. Suddenly it remembered something important, a plan it had formed, a way to return to its master. Of course! That fool hobbit was probably even now cowering before the Dark Lord "Master I have returned to you!", no one answered. "Master it is your faithful ring....", why did he not answer?.... Unless... the fool of a hobbit was no longer on top of Bara-dur..... "Arse!" Ah well the ring thought... there would be other plans, other opportunities. Next time it must not fall asleep. The ring snuggled into the warm, fine cotton of Bilbo's pocket and drifted back to sleep. It dreamt of waffles....  
  
THE END  
  
Authors note: Right that's the first story down. I am intending to go right the way through the fellowship of the ring and I'll aim to update every week.  
  
Next week - Its time to leave the Shire...but an ill fated party at Merry's pad threatens to ruin Frodo's quest before it's even begun! 


	4. A conspiracy Asked!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own nothin.  
  
A Conspiracy Asked Part1  
  
"I love you Mr Frodo"  
  
"I know Sam"  
  
"No but I mean I really lo-", Sam knocked over his ale mug and let out a sharp squeal as the liquid soaked Frodo's Britches  
  
"SAM YOU MORON!" Frodo roared as he stood up to survey the damage. Several nearby hobbits started to laugh and Merry snorted into his drink spraying pippin with froth. For some reason whenever a drink spills it magnetically collects onto the most embarrassing area it can find. Liquid has a sense of humour too. Johnsberg extra smooth ale was no exception; Frodo had a large wet circle around his crotch. "I'm s-so sorry Mr Frodo", said Sam quickly, entering a near state of panic. In a flash he produced a white handkerchief, "let me get that for you", Sam leant over the table and started to rub Frodo's crotch. Just as quickly Frodo yelped and jumped backwards. The tavern erupted in laughter. Merry and Pippin were hysterical and Fredegar laughed so hard he fell off his chair, to which several Hobbits applauded. It does not take much to amuse Hobbits, who are naturally jolly folk anyway. Especially after a few half-pints.  
  
Feeling rather embarrassed Frodo sat down with a frown. Sam did likewise although he had no idea what everyone had found so amusing. Frodo kept a sullen silence as the pub chatter grew to its normal steady babble, occasionally throwing Sam an evil look. Whenever he and Sam went anywhere it always seemed to involve an instance of Sam-on-Frodo crotch rubbing, he was worried people would start to talk. Eventually Merry took a hearty swig of ale and put his mug down with a thump. This seemed to bring their table back to the present. Sam muttered another apology, and Frodo, after stern looks from his friends grudgingly accepted.  
  
"Right with that out of the way", declared Merry, "myself, Pip, Sam and Fredegar have an announcement to make!"  
  
Frodo inwardly sighed with relief. At last! He thought they've decided on accompanying me to Bree. It was about time.  
  
Throughout the summer, Frodo had received a number of letters from Gandalf. Some had been pointless post cards which began like, "Well here I am in Gondor the weathers fine...". However recently most of Gandalf's missives had been full of doom laden ominousness regarding Bilbo's old ring. The upshot of it all was that he had to leave the Shire, for a time, and meet Gandalf in Bree. It had all left Frodo slightly confused and a little scared, especially when Gandalf began his letters with "Dark shapes stir in Mordor...smoke rises from mount doom.. A shadow is cast over the land and in times like these even the nine may walk again.". He had no idea who the "nine" actually were, but somehow he didn't want to find out. He was uncertain about many things.too many things. As a matter of fact he wasn't even sure "ominousness" was a word. One thing was certain though, he had to leave the Shire soon and there was no way Frodo would be bravely leaving alone. Oh no, not when the Dark Lord Sauron may be after him. He wanted companions, as many as possible. ideally he wanted great warriors to leave with him, the sort who turned out to be future kings. however this was the Shire, full of short plump hobbits who were about as dangerous as wild daisy's, but they were better than nothing (At the least his friends could serve as decoys). So for the duration of the summer he had been surreptitiously informing his friends of his departure. Frodo had perpetrated the following rather cowardly acts.  
  
He had muttered things like "I wonder if I'll ever see this place again", while looking longingly at Bag End, while always making sure his friends overheard him  
  
He had carefully placed many of Gandalf's letters in plain view, often where Sam would be cleaning/ gardening. In extreme cases he had posted letters through Merry's door  
  
He had carefully marked out his route to Bree on a map and then left it in the flowerbed  
  
When sleeping over at Brandy hall he had "talked in his sleep". The truth was Frodo had just talked.  
  
Merry paused for effect, making sure he had everyone's attention. "Right", he said, "Frodo don't be angry with us..but we've discovered you're secret", Frodo's mind whirled for a second. No, they haven't found out about the cucumber incident had they? Just as quickly though he relaxed, this is a about his leaving. Not the cucumber.no one knew about that. Meanwhile he was trying to wear a look of surprised innocence as Merry continued. "We know about you're plans to leave the Shire!".  
  
Frodo gasped, "How?"  
  
"I'm afraid I'm the most guilty here Mr Frodo", said Sam uncomfortably as he explained how he'd read his masters mail, overheard him muttering to himself and found the map then passed on his suspicions to Merry, Pip and Fredegar.  
  
"Please forgive me Mr Frodo", Sam finished on a pleading note Of course Frodo, at this moment could not have been happier but he remained outwardly shocked, and he promptly docked Sam's wages by ten percent.  
  
"It wasn't just Sam's observations that alerted us though", said Merry  
  
"S'right", agreed Pippin, "Some idiot delivered letters to Merry's house that were addressed to you" "And", said Merry, "They were already opened!"  
  
Frodo shook his head, "You just can't get a reliable messenger nowadays"  
  
"Anyway", said Merry putting his mug down with a determined thud, "What sort of friends would we be if we let you go alone?"  
  
Yes! Frodo mentally congratulated himself on a successful campaign. "That's right!" exclaimed Pippin, "We're coming with you!"  
  
Later that night, the last orders bell had tolled and five inebriated hobbits lurched out of the local. Sam cast back a longing look at the barmaid Rosy, who was standing by the doorway. She smiled and waved coyly to which Sam went bright crimson. None of the others noticed in the dark though. "One day.", Sam slurred in Frodo's ear, "I am going to marry her and I'll have a house full of wholesome children.a-and I'll come in an say interesting things like.Well, I'm back". Frodo nodded. Fredegar was the first to leave the group for his hobbit hole,.they called their goodbyes to him as he took a different path.  
  
"Why was Freddeggar winking at you Mr Frodo?", said Sam  
  
"He wasn't"  
  
At the next corner Merry and Pippin left with an exchange of winks, sly nudges and finger pointing with Frodo. All of this Sam missed. The night darkened ominously as Frodo and Sam continued, it made Frodo uneasy after Gandalf's letters.everything he saw along the way seemed to frighten him, a bush that moved in the wind, a creaking weather vain, a cowled black stranger with no face on a black horse with red eyes. Frodo shook his head, this was getting ridiculous! He was becoming paranoid.  
  
"Excuesssss me"  
  
Frodo and Sam whirled as the stranger trotted his horse alongside them. "I amss lookingsss for Bag Innessssss"  
  
The two hobbits rolled their eyes. Tourists. "Sorry no place like that around here", said Frodo, "but you might want to try "The Golden Buttercup", they do bed and breakfast for a reasonable price"  
  
"And great black puddings!", Sam interjected with a hiccup.  
  
The stranger seemed to consider this for a moment, then with an unearthly hiss reined the horse in a full circle and sped into the night. Frodo watched the stranger go, black cloak flapping as he became a ghostly shadow against a bank of curling fog which had decided to show up for effect. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but through a thick layer of alcohol induced indifference his senses told him there was something not quite right about that guy.  
  
A few minutes later Frodo was waving his goodbyes to Sam, then he stepped inside and closed the rounded door of Bag End plunging him into darkness. He hated the way Bag End had slowly become creepier recently. It was Gandalf's letters that caused it of course, they were fuelling his imagination with all sorts of rubbish. But then he couldn't remember opening that window. it banged against the desk in a sudden breeze that sent papers rustling onto the floor. Frodo realised he was holding his breath. This is stupid! He told himself. With muttered curses Frodo bumped his way through the darkness leaned over, and drew in the windows which gave a creaking moan for good measure. Not bothering to pick up the fallen papers, he quickly lit a few oil lamps. They illuminated another letter from Gandalf lying by the door. Frodo picked it up (black things move in the night, a shadow of great malice stirs..etc) and tossed it in the bin. Then he sank into his favourite chair and briefly considered lighting the fireplace but found he was too comfortable now to bother. His momentary peace was shattered however with a booming knock at the door. "Shit!", he said jerking upright. How could he forget! The party, it was tonight and here he was moping about when he could have been getting ready. He ran to the bathroom mirror, and hurried a brush through his tangled hair, he then regarded Bilbo's shaving knife...for some reason he had never needed to shave. Ever. He then burst from the bathroom threw on his best waist coat and yanked open the door. Pippin was waiting on the other side with an annoyed expression. "Where have you been? The party started ages ago" Frodo didn't have a good answer so he plumped for an apology as the two hobbits set off towards Brandywine Hall. On the way Pippin briefed him on his latest party strategy.  
  
Hobbits could be divided into four party categories  
  
There were those who turned up for the free food, drink, pipe weed and whatever else they could lay there hands on.  
  
Others, came for the dancing and exuberant clapping which was a hallmark of all decent hobbit parties.  
  
Most of the older Hobbits never past up the opportunity to gather round a table and talk of Shire events. The only problem was nothing much ever really happened in the Shire. The weather was a good topic, as was the terrible radish shortage of 87 but lately most talk revolved around strange folk and their penchant for being "abroad".  
  
The final reason was Rosie the barmaid, who was widely held to be the prettiest female in all the Shire (the only one without facial hair). Her mere presence at a party was enough to inspire most young males to attend. Pippin fell into this category. Would this be his lucky night? Read on to find out..  
  
"Carrots"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said carrots", Pippin grinned, "I put one down my pants"  
  
"Ah.."  
  
"Yeah, Rosie can't fail to miss my enormous manhood. Of course it makes walking a bit difficult."  
  
Frodo noticed that Pippin was moving in a kind of stiff limp. "What if you're asked to dance?"  
  
"I'd use my new seduction routine instead of the normal stuff"  
  
"Oh"  
  
"Yeah, its quite good..I came up with it myself. Requires a carrot though."  
  
Frodo complimented Pippin on his new idea, but he didn't for a moment believe it would work. He couldn't remember any hobbit ever leaving a party with Rosie on his arm, and he was quite sure Pippins carrot scheme would not change that. Suddenly a large shadow detached itself from a clump of trees ahead. In an instant Gandalf's letters sent Frodo's imagination into overdrive. He stopped dead. His breath caught in his chest. Pippin looked around, puzzled that his friend had stopped.  
  
"What's wrong with y-"  
  
The clop of horse shoes cut him off as he whirled to stare at what Frodo was watching coming towards him. In seconds the shape had changed from an indistinct shadow to a horse and rider galloping headlong at him, black robes swirling in its wake.  
  
"AAAAaaarggghhh!"  
  
"Bag Innessssss!"  
  
Frodo stopped screaming. It was the stranger he'd met before, he would recognise that black cape, gothic armour and lack of face anywhere.  
  
"I've told you before", said Frodo in exasperation, "There's no such place, so just bugger off will you!"  
  
The black rider paused and although it had no face Frodo thought it looked at bit embarrassed. He watched it slink off down the road. The stranger wasn't the only one feeling abashed however as Frodo felt Pippin's incredulous glare. Frodo scratched the back of his head, "well..that shadow could have been anything"  
  
"Yeah", laughed Pippin, "a big scary monster"  
  
"lets just forget it shall we?"  
  
Pippin looped his arm around Frodo, "Alright. I'll protect you"  
  
Frodo freed himself, "I mean it Pippin!"  
  
"Fine. A little jumpy tonight aren't we?"  
  
Frodo didn't answer, he was more annoyed at himself than Pippin. How could he be this nervous? He was jumping at shadows all the time. The sooner he left the Shire the better, a small trip to Bree would do him a world of good. He was doubly cross with himself for panicking in his friends company. Unfortunately Pippin didn't "forget it", he made infuriating ghost noises along the way.  
  
A minute later and they were bounding up the steps of Merry's home. Unlike most hobbit residences Merry's home was not a hole, instead it was a building in the style of his family's Brandywine Hall in Buckland. Squares of light invitingly poured out of open windows from which jaunty string music, mixed with the cheers and shouts of a party in full swing hastened their step. It was the grandest building in Hobbiton, but neither Frodo nor Pippin spared time to admire it as they reached the great oak doors breathlessly. It had one of those elaborate knockers in the shape of a pigs head. (Pigs being the most vicious creature in the Shire). Pippin rapped it three times. They waited several seconds before a rather drunken Merry appeared.  
  
"Ah, there you are come in, come in! I had to send Pip out for you. Where have you been?"  
  
"Sorry", Frodo muttered as he closed the doors behind him, "I've been tired recently and-"  
  
but Merry wasn't listening, instead he was sauntering over to where Rosie was standing alone by the food bar, a rare opportunity, so Frodo could forgive him. Pippin however was not so inclined, "thieving git!"  
  
"what?"  
  
"look", growled Pippin who pointed to a carrot shaped bulge in Merry's britches, "not only is he after the one girl I was tonight, but he stole my idea too!"  
  
"Never mind", said Frodo, "its personality that really counts-" At that moment Rosie burst out laughing while Merry put his hands on his head and jumped up and down.  
  
"Thieving git!", shouted Frodo a bit too loudly, some dancers turned to stare at him, "that was my sheep joke he just used! I was going to use that on Rosie"  
  
"Idea thief", agreed Pippin, "but I think my carrots bigger." The night wore on, it was no longer young now, it was middle aged, balding and developing a paunch. Frodo staggered up to the wine bar. The Gaffer had taken it upon himself to watch over this most coveted area , he sat with his wrinkled friends on a table just behind it in a fog of pipe weed smoke.  
  
"As I was saying.. There's been some strange folk crossing the Shire"  
  
"Wars a'brue'in"  
  
"Aye"  
  
"Dwarfs and other less than savoury characters"  
  
"Black riders for one!"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Aye, I saw him last night skulking around Bagshot row. Told him to bugger off home!"  
  
"Here, here!"  
  
"Foreigners."  
  
"Aye"  
  
Frodo, conscious that they were paying him no attention reached over for the old brandy. He was quite drunk. This would Finnish him off nicely.  
  
"Make mine a double"  
  
In spite of himself he jumped. Rosie stood next to him, looking even more beautiful than usual. Frodo took the proffered glass and concentrated all his energies on not spilling the brandy. He slyly poured Rosie far more than she asked for. "There you go", he said trying hard not to sway as he handed her the glass.  
  
"Thanks. Good party this"  
  
"Yeah", said Frodo aware that this was the longest conversation he'd ever held with Rosie. She smiled at him. He grinned back, while he knew with a certainty that his mind had gone blank. He had nothing to say. Damn Merry! If it wasn't for him stealing his sheep joke...but then, she was standing with him now, not with Merry.  
  
"You know you have very interesting eyes Frodo"  
  
"I do? Oh. yes they are big aren't they"  
  
They trailed into silence. Frodo started a scrupulous examination of his left sleave while Rosie idly swilled her glass. Was it his turn to speak again? He thought he should say something.  
  
"So.."  
  
Rosie looked up.  
  
"Er..how about that radish shortage of 87 eh?"  
  
However Rosie never got time to reply. A loud echoing knock at the great oak doors turned everyones heads as Merry opened them Frodo recognised who it was, "Shit!", he pulled Rosie down with him underneath a nearby table.  
  
To be continued..  
  
Authors note: thanks to my reviewers it made me more determined to write this. More to come next week! 


	5. Part 2

Disclaimer: I am borrowing Lord of the rings for awhile. When I've finished I'll give it back.  
  
Foreword: Right, last chapter left with the old "who's at the door?" ploy. Is it a black rider? Maybe it's Sam? Gandalf? Or just a double glazing salesman....  
  
Part 2  
  
Frodo peered at eye level over the edge of the table.  
  
"Who is it?", Rosie hissed  
  
"Stay down!"  
  
He had a good view. The room had quietened somewhat as Pippin hushed the musicians and most hobbits turned to watch the rather awkward events unfolding by the door. Merry stood holding the great oak doors open only slightly, enough room for a single hobbit to stand in and Merry was filling that space, trying to shield the visitor any view inside.  
  
"So he's not here?" said the visitor  
  
"Nope", said Merry moving his head in a way that suggested the visitor was trying to peer inside.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Of course I'm sure, I would know if I saw him"  
  
"It's just that I've got a message for him"  
  
"A message, at this time of night?" "Well it is kind of urgent."  
  
"Tell you what, why don't you give it to me and I'll pass it on to him if I see him."  
  
There was a pause as the visitor presumably considered this.  
  
"Are you sure he's not in there?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Its just I knocked on his door for several minutes and there was no answer."  
  
"Look, I'm sure Frodo's asleep, that's all"  
  
Frodo shrunk back under the table aware that every eye in the room ha turned to him.  
  
"Are you having a party?"  
  
"No...what gave you that idea"  
  
"Just it sounded like it when I came up the steps"  
  
There was more than a note of suspicion in the visitor's voice. There was the sound of scuffling. Frodo peered back over the table only to duck down just in time as Sam's head briefly poked around the door before he was repelled by Merry.  
  
"If it's not a party what are all those people doing inside?"  
  
Merry could think fast. However the speed one thinks does not guarantee a clever answer. Especially after 5 Half pints.  
  
"They are..er. relatives from ...er Gondor. You know how big my family is."  
  
"But I saw Able from the carpenters and Marian from Harbottle!"  
  
"Well er they're both from Gondor too..I mean they're grandparents were befor they emigrated to the Shire..so I thought I'd get them around you know.. because they could help them settle in. I mean these Gondorean's, they don't mix easy and I thought two people whose family used to live there could help them re- adjust."  
  
Even by Merry's standards the story was awful.  
  
"You have relatives in Gondor?" Sam said doubtfully  
  
Frodo sighed; this was going to continue for a while.  
  
"Why don't you invite Sam?", Rosie kneeled next to him under the table, her hair was dishelved and there was a white smear across her dress thanks to an ambiguous substance under one of the chairs. Her dark frown told Frodo to answer quickly. But what could he say? Frodo floundered for an answer. Why? It was obvious wasn't it? Not inviting Sam just seemed natural, like breathing, plus he was never going to score with Rosie if Sam was there wiping his crotch every ten minutes, but he couldn't tell her that.  
  
Fredegar had been to whatever hobbits used for a toilet and felt good for his empty bladder. As a matter of fact he felt better than good, he felt fantastic. He started to skip down the hallway, he couldn't wait to get back to the party. As he skipped he ignored his flabby belly that wobbled with every hop, he couldn't remember where he'd lost his top, he didn't care. Party! If Fredegar wasn't drunk he may have noticed there was no music coming from the main hall, but he was, and in a subconscious, back of the mind sort of way he decided on a loud entrance.  
  
"Come on I've never met anyone from Gondor.."  
  
"No, I've told you I don't want to overcrowd them on their first night"  
  
Bang! Every head turned too see a fat hobbit cannon ball through double doors with a bellowed,  
  
"PARTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"  
  
"What did he-"  
  
Merry slammed the door shut and slumped back against it, breathing as if he'd been running for the last ten minutes. The hall remained silent with the exception of Fredegar, who, in his haste had crashed into a stool and was emitting low moaning noises, "my legs, I think I broke them.."  
  
Pippin told him to be quiet, however their caution was unfounded, there was no further door hammering as expected.  
  
"I think he went", said Frodo  
  
"I think I'll do the same!", Rosie snapped, standing now and dusting off her dress.  
  
"But why we where having a good time."  
  
The music had started up once more and the party was back in full swing.  
  
"You should invite Sam next time! It's mean not too!"  
  
Frodo didn't reply however as once again there was a booming knock at the doors. Everyone groaned as Merry gestured for silence and wobbled to the door. Frodo sank back under the table but Rosie crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm going to tell him you're here!"  
  
Round about now this tale is about to take an abrupt change in direction. It surprised everyone. Especially Merry and Pippin. Fredegar was the only one unsurprised, however he had just passed out a minute ago (two sentences in literary terms) and so he didn't really have the capacity. He will be informed by fellow party goers when he wakes up however, thus surprising him at a later date.  
  
Surprise (as noted above) is a good word to use as it describes quite simply how the partiers felt as two hobbits, both wide old men and farmers by their mud stained clothes bumped their way past Merry and proclaimed in the centre of the room that Merriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took where hereby under Shirelings arrest.  
  
"What for?" said Pippin aggrievedly  
  
"GBH", said one of the farmers grimly, "On our good friend farmer Maggot!"  
  
There was a shocked silence. So shocked in fact that even the silence itself was surprised at its inherent shock factor. "We've not been anywhere near farmer Maggot..", Pippin slurred.  
  
"Oh really?", said the grim farmer appealing to everyone in the room, his voice full of purpose, "what's that you got there in you're pants then?"  
  
Only silence itself could describe the lack of sound when Pippin slowly removed a carrot out from his britches. At that same moment the carrot Merry had been carefully extracting from his pants, unnoticed by the door dropped to the ground like a conclusive orange cone of justice. The farmers grabbed Merry and Pippin who put up little resistance in their alcohol addled state and were carted out of the room. "Its not how it looks!", Merry wailed as the grand double doors of his home slammed behind them.  
  
To be continued.. 


	6. Part 3

Disclaimer: Surprisingly I don't own LOTR.  
  
Authors note: Merry and Pippin have been arrested. The evidence looks bad...but if Frodo wants to free them he must first face the black riders....who are no longer abroad, but in Hobbiton!  
  
The next day Frodo awoke with a hangover and felt as if he should remember something, something important. Presently though he concentrated on keeping his room in focus and not throwing up. He groaned. Something had happened last night. Whatever it was it would interfere with his plans to leave the Shire tomorrow. He knew that much at least. With another groan he lay back, pulled his covers tightly around him and tried to ignore a dull headache. Several hours, cups of tea and hurried trips to the bathroom later Frodo felt well enough to face the day. He had to gather his troops for tomorrow, he hoped none of them had bottled it as he didn't fancy the idea of leaving the Shire alone..not with the possibility of running into the nine...whoever they were, but if it did happen he'd rather have decoys with him at the time. However the day held many surprises for brave Frodo. The first was to find Sam sleeping on his doorstep. He prodded the sleeping hobbit awake.  
  
"Wha? Ah! Mr Frodo I was so worried! I realised something last night and I tried to tell you but there was no answer. I was scared they'd got you!  
  
"What? Sam, slow down."  
  
"Alright...well remember that black cloaked guy with no face we met last night?"  
  
"Yes.", said Frodo slowly  
  
"Well I got thinking on what Gandalf said in those letters and I know it's a bit far fetched but I think that black rider was one of the nine he mentioned!"  
  
Frodo thought for a moment..there had been something not quite right about that rider..he couldn't put his finger on it, but there had been. Then a worse thought occurred to him. "Shit! He said Bag Innessss - he meant me Sam! He was looking for me!"  
  
"I know Mr Frodo!"  
  
He sat down on his door step then, and raked a hand through his dark curls, "we have to leave soon Sam, as a matter of fact we should leave tonight!"  
  
Sam nodded, "I'll start packing"   
  
"And I will tell Merry, Pip and Fredegar", then Frodo added, "because I fear we will need all the help we can get", because it sounded cool.   
  
Sam wasn't there to hear it though, the clatter of pans from inside told Frodo Sam had already started packing. He just kept staring desolately into the distance, somehow his leaving the Shire now felt much more final. Sam called from the kitchen, "Have you eaten yet Mr Frodo? Because I could rustle you up some eggs, bacon and sausages" The thought of food made his stomach turn, "no thanks. I think I'll just go for a walk"   
  
The sky was clear blue, and the sun was at its midday peak as Frodo and Sam strolled towards Fredegars hobbit hole. The fresh air had helped clear Frodo's head, he was sure he'd remember something important any minute. As he knocked on Fredegars front door he realised it may not matter if he did as Fredegar would inform him. Sam loitered a few paces behind, glancing from side to side suspiciously. He had insisted on accompanying Frodo as some sort of bodyguard. There was no answer from inside but when Frodo pushed the door, it opened. Fredegars hobbit hole was probably very nice, but since he wasn't an important character the interior was left undiscribed. Frodo called his friends name while Sam scouted each room ahead of him shouting "clear!", every so often.   
  
"In here..", called a weak voice   
  
Frodo was about to enter the bedroom when Sam clamped his hand across his arm.   
  
"It may be a trap Mr Frodo! I should go first."   
  
Frodo didn't for a minute believe it was, but he felt no point in arguing. Sam looked at Frodo, nodded grimly and charged into the room. Such was Sam's entrance that the door swung back on itself, blocking Frodo's view as Sam hit the floor with a thud screaming, "Aaaaaaaargh! A trap! Fly Mr Frodo! Fly!"   
  
Frodo whirled away from the bedroom and selflessly pelted down the hallway without looking back. He might not be able to fly, but when the need gripped him he could run fair enough. The rounded doorway was just ahead, a circle of light and safety. Then, just before he reached the entrance a stooped black figure atop a black horse moved to cut off the light. Frodo skidded to a halt and dived behind a coat stand. It was lucky that it held a coat to hide him and Fredegar had always worn large coats. Frodo held his breath, not daring to make the smallest sound. Had the black rider noticed him? Was this part of the trap? Or was it chance that brought the rider up the road at that moment? He tried to listen past the thud of his heart for the first tell-tale noise of someone entering the hole.. He waited, and realised an argument was taking place outside.   
  
"That's a weeks worth of vegetables you destroyed!"   
  
"....."   
  
"You can't just go charging around like you own this place you know! There's a ten mile an hour speed limit down at the market basin! It's a built up area you know!"   
  
"...."   
  
Hey are you even listening? We Shire folk don't take kindly to strangers disrupting market day!"   
  
"....."   
  
"What's this? Mordor coinage! You can't use this stuff down here! My stall was worth at least ten gold!"  
  
"...."   
  
"No, no! That swords only worth five at best!"   
  
"...."   
  
"..Oh. I see"   
  
"Baginsssssss?"   
  
"Yeah, he went in there"   
  
Frodo squirmed and tried to wish himself smaller. It was coming for him. The steady metallic clump of steel boots sounded on the pathway, coming closer, its rhythmic sounds the music of doom, step by inevitable step. Then a scuffling noise as it wiped its feet on the door mat. Then clump. Clump. Clump! The hallway darkened as the figure's cowled head loomed over the coat stand. Frodo shivered, then Froze in fear as it turned its terrible, faceless gaze down upon him.   
  
"Baginssssss?"   
  
Sam stepped into the hallway. "He's over there!", Frodo managed. The strangers head snapped up and locked gazes with the plumb hobbit standing opposite. Then with a hiss it charged. Sword flashing from its hilt, the coat stand was cut in two as it rushed forwards. Sam was unarmed but ready. He ducked the first swing and delivered a snapping backhand blow to its N/A face. Frodo watched from under Fredegars coat. Sam was giving up ground to it as he dodged swipe after swipe. Then darted into the first room he came to. The black stranger hissed its fury and gave chase. Frodo got up, his legs shaking, he knew he should run.but this really was a good fight. The kitchen was lit by a red gold sunset as the black rider and Sam faced off. Sam had used vital seconds to arm himself with a pan and a whisk and met the black rider stroke for stroke. Sparks flew from Fredegars none-stick pan as Sam pushed home a brief advantage only for the black rider to sidestep a whisk uppercut and land an armoured fist into Sam's chest. The plump hobbit skidded to the other side of the room gasping for breath. The black rider advanced, gothic sword raised for the finishing blow. But Sam knew he had this one chance to recover, he rolled just as the rider's sword came down. Next he jumped up on his feet once more and stabbed the whisk into the rider's hood where it vanished into blackness. "Lawks!", cried Sam as the pan dropped from his hands. He had no time to retrieve it however as he ducked a horizontal slash then back flipped onto the worktop. At that moment the sunset darkened to burgundy and the black rider hissed it's frustration, time seemed to slow as both combatants regarded each other. Times like these are always turning points in battles, they happen just before one of the fighters start kicking ass. And as Sam unfurled from a kneeling position eyes cold with steely reserve, holding a pastry-bake apple pie, it was obvious who the victor would be. He hopped a slash aimed at his shins, and shouted "Let them eat cake!", as he plunged the apple pie deep into the riders cowl. Then he somersaulted off the worktop, rolled and came up in a lunging tackle which toppled the rider. Sam wasted no time on his downed opponent however, he sprang away dancing past Fredegars shelves, sink and worktop sending their contents down on the hapless rider in a cascade of unwashed pots and cutlery. Slowly, unsteadily the black rider rose, kitchen utensils falling from its black robes sticky with cream, honey, apple sauce and raspberry jam. "Die!", it rasped in it unnatural hiss. But Sam was quicker, he rained down a barrage of punches and as the rider swooned, "Its time to put the icing on the cake!", he finished it with a double inverted dragon kick.   
  
"No one could ever beat you in the kitchen, Sam", Frodo said from the doorway.   
  
Sam nodded, staring down at his handiwork. The black rider was sprawled unconscious on the kitchen floor. With a heave he grabbed it by the legs and pulled it out of Fredegars hole (Ahem) and into the street.   
  
"How did you escape their trap?", said Frodo as Sam came back inside, dusting his hands. The plump hobbit blushed, "Ah, that was no trap Mr Frodo. Look"   
  
Frodo followed as Sam led him into Fredegars bedroom whose occupant was lying on the floor by the door.   
  
"I tripped over him", Sam explained.   
  
"Damn right you did!", groaned Fredegar, who looked worse than Frodo had that morning.   
  
"What happened to you Fatty?". Said Frodo "What happened to me! What happened to me! You is what bloody happened to me!" Frodo continued to stare at him blankly, "why are you lying on the floor?"   
  
Fredegar snorted "You don't remember? That party last night-"   
  
Sam instantly turned to Frodo, "You said you didn't go to a party last night!"   
  
"Oh, um well I must have forgot."   
  
Sam frowned and crossed his arms. "This would be the party at Merry's place would it?"   
  
"Of course!", gushed Fedegar as Frodo shot him an angry look   
  
"I'm sorry Sam, can you ever forgive me?"   
  
"Sure" . With that out of the way Fredegar continued to explain how he'd broken his ankle on a wooden stool the previous night. "And you!", he shouted pointing at Frodo, "said you'd help me home. Only to dump me on the floor as soon as you opened the door!"  
  
"Well, I did get you home!"  
  
"Yeah, and I've spent all day crawling slowly to my bed! Only for some fool," he gestured at Sam, "To come falling over me! And I don't know what you've done in my kitchen, sounded like a war in there!"  
  
"The kitchens fine", Frodo said quickly. "So I suppose you can't come with us now.."  
  
"In this state.definitely not. But I suppose I came out of last night better off than some."  
  
Frodo, who was beginning to recall bits of last night, just images really, mainly of cider, had a feeling Fredegar was about to unveil that important event that he couldn't remember. This was absolutely true. "Merry and Pippin were arrested for GBH on farmer Maggot." Sam gasped while Frodo groaned. He needed those two..his soldiers. This journey was falling apart before it even started.   
  
To be continued.... 


	7. Part 4

Disclaimer: LOTR defiantly does not belong to me, however much I want it to.  
  
Foreword: Here's the final part to this long running tale. It's probably the longest chapter I've ever written, and possibly the silliest. Don't forget to tell me what you think. Enjoy.  
  
"A Conspiracy Asked" Part 4  
  
After visiting Fredegar they had asked several hobbits as to the current whereabouts of Merry and Pippin. Rumours spread quickly in the Shire and everyone had their own view or claimed to know something about their arrest, "I heard Pippin stabbed poor Maggot with a pitch fork!", "To be honest I say good riddance to those two! I always said they were bad'uns", "I saw Maggot yesterday, he was bruised black n' blue, those little bastards!"  
  
It seemed his two friends were not held in the highest regard by most Shire folk, however Frodo didn't believe Merry and Pippin capable of GBH, petty theft, yes, indecent exposure, yes, but not Gross bodily harm! There must be another answer to this riddle Frodo thought, and if I can only talk to them maybe I'll find the answer. The day drifted by, just when the two hobbits were about to give up their search they bumped into a farmer who seemed familiar to Frodo.  
  
"Ha! I know where they are. I arrested them!"  
  
It was then that Frodo recognised that grim farmer from last night.  
  
"And you'd be their two friends eh? Well I'll not be telling you where to find em! Those two are looking at ten years community service at least!"  
  
"Community service?", Frodo spluttered  
  
"Aye, they'd be doin stuff like seed planting, hoeing, radish picking..that sort of thing", a lazy smile widened his face.  
  
"Aha! So you framed my two friends so that they would have to do your work for you!"  
  
The big farmer sighed, then casually leaned forward to speak in Frodo's ear alone. "Aye, that be the truth of it. We used berry juice for Maggots bruises", he whispered smiling broadly all the while.  
  
"You bastards", Frodo seethed, "I'm going to see them cleared!"  
  
The farmer threw his head back and laughed, "Everyone knew your two friends stole from Maggot! Why would they believe you over us?"  
  
Frodo had no answer to that so he boasted, "then I'll break them out myself!", (Mentally he replaced the word "myself" with "Sam")  
  
"Ha! I haven't even told you where they are"  
  
Frodo knew it was now time to use his jedi mind trick. "Where are my Friends?", he said calmly waving his hand in front of the farmer.  
  
"In farmer Maggots Attic"  
  
Back at Bag End all was quiet.. CRACK. Gandalf appeared by the fire place. He quickly looked around. "Hello? Anyone home?" No one answered. It was probably better this way, the wizard conceded to himself, after all he had just apparated without any explanation into the middle of Bag End. He lit the log fire and settled into Bilbo's favourite armchair. It was Frodo's home now, not Bilbo's. Strange how time flew by. The room gradually warmed, aware that he had just committed copy write infringement, the old wizard fell asleep.  
  
While Gandalf slept, the day wore on, shadows lengthened as evening turned to dusk. Lights appeared in the windows of nearby holes as most hobbits settled in for the night. As the moon rose a cold breeze drifted through Hobbiton. Gandalf awoke before the scene could become any more foreboding. He had been having a worrisome dream in which he was being sued by a blond haired women. The wizard shivered. The room had grown cold and the fire had long since died to its last ember. Grunting he heaved himself up and went to poke at the fire when he heard voices outside. "At last", he muttered. Frodo had returned home. Gandalf quickly cast around wondering where he should be positioned. Wizards always had to maintain an air of mystery about them. It helped people to stay in awe of them, wizards always surprised people, never the other way around. Gandalf was not about to be discovered by a lowly hobbit fiddling in the hearth.  
  
Frodo entered his dark hole (cough). It had been a trying day. He and Sam had trailed all the way to Maggots farm, only to find no sign of Merry and Pippin and no way into the house without attracting Farmer Maggots attention who was up and about, patrolling his fields looking as healthy as an old, flabby hobbit can. Frodo's exhaustion meant he had lost all apprehension of entering his empty hole (Ahem). Only it wasn't empty..  
  
A large hand clamped his shoulder from behind. "Is it secret? Is it safe!" Frodo screamed like a girl. He whirled to find a scraggily white beard in close proximity.  
  
"Gandalf!"  
  
"Ho-ho-ho"  
  
"You cockmuncher! I almost died of fright!"  
  
"Ho-ho-ho"  
  
Secretly though, Frodo was glad Gandalf was here, even if he had to endure the wizards sense of humour. The sudden rush of adrenalin that accompanies a shock meant Frodo could not sleep for a while, so he brewed two cups of tea while Gandalf explained his reasons for appearing.  
  
"And how long did you're journey back here take?" Frodo asked out of politeness.  
  
Gandalf mumbled something as Frodo set a steaming mug in front of him.  
  
"Frodo, the reason I am here is that I sensed you could do with a bit of help"  
  
Frodo sighed, "I do need you're help Gandalf, or rather Merry and Pippin do."  
  
Frodo then explained the events of the last two days. Gandalf maintained his quiet in all this but once Frodo had finished he exclaimed, "Why on Arda do you want those two clowns with you?"  
  
Frodo shrugged, "they might make good decoys somewhere along the line."  
  
Gandalf nodded. "Very well, I will see what I can do tomorrow"  
  
Early the next morning Gandalf finally led Frodo and Sam out of Bag End. It was an odd feeling Frodo considered, to be leaving the Shire, aside from Bilbo it was practically unheard of for hobbits to do so. Then again it would only be a short trip.  
  
"Keep up Samwise!", Gandalf called  
  
To explain quite why Sam is lagging behind here is this list of supplies the two hobbits had packed..  
  
2 Frying pans carried by Sam 1 cooking pan and other utensils - Sam 15 Apples - Sam 10 Sausages - Sam 3 Rolls of bread - Sam 10 Sausages, eggs and rashers of bacon - Sam 1 party sausage - Frodo 5 blocks of cheese - Sam Sam's spare cloak and other clothing - Sam Frodo's spare cloak and other clothing - Sam 2 Pipes and modest amount of pipe weed - Sam Several skins of water and cooking oil - Sam Sleeping Bags - Sam Ambiguous frilly underwear - Sam Dirty Magazines - Sam Handkerchief - Frodo An interestingly shaped leaf Frodo had picked up - Sam A rock Frodo and Gandalf had put in Sam's rucksack for a laugh - Sam  
  
"My friends are in the attic I think", said Frodo as he and Gandalf crouched stealthily behind a red berry bush. Farmer Maggots farm house lay in front of them like an impenetrable black fortress of doom (probably). Behind them Sam slumped against a tree, out of breath. "Samwise you really should get more exercise", said Gandalf. Sam nodded and promptly fell asleep. Frodo shook his head, Sam was a loyal friend but sometimes he was awfully lazy. After several minutes more studying the house Gandalf stood up, staff in hand. "I will try a summoning spell!", he exclaimed. Frodo scrambled out of the bush excitedly. The wizard turned to him, "stand back, young Frodo", he said flourishing his robes.  
  
"What will this spell actually do Gandalf?"  
  
"It will simply cause Merryiadoc and Peregrine to fly through that open window, there." He pointed with his staff, "and levitate down to us!"  
  
"Great!", said Frodo brimming with anticipation, "Sam wake up! Gandalf's about to do magic!"  
  
As Sam awoke, rubbing his eyes the wizard straightened, pointed his staff at the farm house and muttered "Accio hobbits!"  
  
Everything was still. Frodo realised he was holding his breath. Nothing was happening. The two hobbits turned to regard Gandalf whose look of solid concentration could have been etched on stone. "I haven't done this in a long time", the wizard said through gritted teeth. Still the seconds rolled by. "Maybe he's forgotten how to do it!", Sam whispered as Frodo jumped aside, narrowly avoiding being crushed under a large second. Then something happened.  
  
BOOM! The farm house exploded. Gandalf, Frodo and Sam jumped to the floor as fiery debris rained down. "I may have put a bit too much power on that." Gandalf muttered. Slowly the three companions recovered. Frodo got to his shaky feet and had to agree with Gandalf's statement. Nothing remained of farmer Maggots house but a few blackened bricks and the odd piece of wood still burning. Frodo threw up his hands. "Well that's just great Gandalf! You've killed Merry and Pippin!". To this Gandalf had no answer, they all just stared at the smoking remains. After some time Frodo stepped forward, "I will miss them... They were good friends", Frodo paused for a moment, thinking, "Well, they were friends at any rate"  
  
Gandalf nodded soberly, "I may not have seen eye to eye with them (Gandalf had been partially blinded in one eye through Pippins laser pen) but deep down they were good hobbits. I will miss them"  
  
Sam stepped forward, hand on heart.  
  
"Merry and Pippin were two good men. Alas the incident with Pippins laser pen. Bane of farmers and running free. I remember the day they set fire to me. Merry and Pippin loved by all. Alas this early that they should fall."  
  
Sam sat down shaking his head, "no that doesn't do them justice at all."  
  
"Well I thought it was very nice!", said a bright voice from behind them  
  
"Especially the "loved by all" bit"  
  
"Y'know Pippin I'd say we owe Gandalf some thanks!"  
  
Frodo turned and stared for a moment, incredulously at the two dishelved hobbits, soot blackened and looking a bit dazed but otherwise perfectly alive. Sam looked equally stunned and Gandalf looked from hobbits to the smoking ruins while his mouth worked soundlessly.  
  
"How on Arda?", Frodo bellowed as he, Sam and even Gandalf leapt to hug them.  
  
"Steady on!" Merry laughed through Frodo's cloak.  
  
"Alright that's enough", said Pippin extricating himself from Sam. Gandalf contented himself with patting each hobbit as to check they were really there. "It looks like you're spell worked after all Gandalf. If with a few side effects."  
  
Gandalf nodded and added gruffly "You didn't think I'd fail did you?"  
  
Later that day four hobbits and a wizard reached the outskirts of Hobbiton. Frodo and Sam had shared out their provisions for Merry and Pippin (Sam had easily packed enough) and the two hobbits now wore Frodo and Sam's spare clothing instead of their own charred items. On the way Merry entertained them with tales of how they had been treated by their captors and how they had discovered Farmer Maggots plans to breed the "ultimate chicken" using cabbages. He told of how he and Pippin had managed to gather enough resources to create an explosive devise. The ingredients to which they would reveal to no one, no matter how hard Gandalf pressed them. "It was on one boring Sunday afternoon five years ago that we discovered it", said Merry, "We made a few tests - only little things, just sparks really. We were so proud of it we decided to surprise someone with it. Later that day some weirdo came into the Shire, what was her name again? Elveren?"  
  
"Elveril", Pippin corrected.  
  
"Oh yes! Anyway she was claiming to be Frodo's long lost half elven, half hobbit princess sister. So we gave her some of our mixture for a laugh and told her to light it. We thought it would be really funny to she the shock on her face when she did-"  
  
Frodo had never heard this story before and was now quite interested. His half sister!  
  
"The only problem was", Merry continued, "that we accidentally added something new to the mixture which made it far more potent. This Elveril tried it anyway and she was blown to bits, unfortunate but from that day on we realised how to make explosives"  
  
Frodo was in a good mood, so much so that he was willing to dismiss the possibility that Merry and Pippin had blown up his long lost half sister.  
  
"Anyway we planned to blow a small hole in the floor and escape that way. Only over potency had proved our weakness in the past and once again we underestimated. Luckily the moment Pippin lit the mixture Gandalf's spell magically transported us through the window."  
  
"Ah", said Frodo, "so that's what happened!"  
  
Between paragraphs Gandalf had acquired a horse and now trotted alongside the four hobbits with a meaningful look in his eyes. "I must leave you now!"  
  
Frodo almost choked, "why Gandalf?"  
  
"Because I must speak with the head of my order. This is attached to the body of the head of my order. He is wise and powerful.that sort of thing"  
  
"But Gandalf we're just hobbits, we probably wont even survive the next chapter without you!"  
  
However the wizard was fiddling with his reins and continued as if he hadn't heard. "Remember", he said gravely, "the enemy has many spies, birds, beasts, and possums. Be on you're guard, don't travel at night...and stay off the roads! Also Frodo, the ring is trying to get back to its master, never put it on!"  
  
And with that he spurred his mount and disappeared into the trees.  
  
"Damn", said Frodo  
  
"Yeah he scared me too", said Sam  
  
"No, its not that. I've forgotten the ring."  
  
The End.  
  
Next time: Tom Bombadil (probably) 


	8. The Blue Pheasant

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the new characters I've created. I probably don't own Walker though...  
  
The following scene was cut from the book and film because it was rubbish.  
  
The Blue Pheasant  
  
The common room of the Blue Pheasant inn was unusually quiet tonight. It was a Friday and one could normally expect raucous laughter, lively songs and the occasional sheep joke from the friendly locals. Tonight however, just a few regulars were huddled in a small group around the bar. They muttered in low voices amongst themselves, one of the braver hobbits poked his head up for a glance at the table by the fireplace, but it was only for a glance before the same hobbit hurriedly resumed his submissive gaze at the bar. "Still there", he whispered.  
  
From behind the bar Abram sighed, but not too loudly. He was not going to make much money tonight. The Blue Pheasant was the last inn on the outskirts of the Shire, indeed the dark trees of the old forest could be seen swaying from the window, and as such a situated inn might expect, travellers often passed through. But the barmen had never seen strangers such as those nine who cast hooded shadows from the table by the fireplace. In all his years he'd served men, dwarfs and even the odd elf or two, but never anyone dressed all in black with no face. It was bad for business for sure, all his customers that night had either made a quick u-turn the moment they'd come in the door (one had actually screamed) or had rather awkwardly sat by the bar ordering one half at best. The main problem was that he just couldn't find the courage to ask the black cloaks to leave. Instead he had just polished his glasses to sheen.  
  
"Watchsss out for the fatssss hobbit", rasped the nazgul with jam stains in his robes.  
  
The other nazgul nodded in agreement sending grim shadows dancing across the room. "Jamsssss issss hard to get out"  
  
"Yessss I will assssk Sauron for a new robe."  
  
The other nazgul shifted doubtfully. Sauron's measly ness was famed throughout Mordor. After all this was the same dark lord who skimped so badly on armour that it was affecting his army's performance in the field. They had all heard orcs complain about their armour not fitting properly, or heard tales of chain mail falling to bits mid-battle, most orc swords were so old that they looked like gnarled bits of wood, but would Sauron fork out for new ones...no.  
  
"I could do with new robesssss", rasped another nazgul, "look itsssss all fraying!"  
  
Things were bad in Mordor at the moment, dungeon prices were rising, inflation was through the roof and to top it off Sauron was making cut- backs. The night wore on as the black riders discussed issues such as these, oblivious to a small group of increasingly nervous hobbits by the bar.  
  
"Abram!" one of the locals hissed his name, "are you going to let them stay all night?"  
  
"We//..er technically they haven't done anything to warrant throwing out.."  
  
Abram suspected that all the present hobbits combined could not manage that.  
  
"They give me the shivers" whispered Joni.  
  
"Aye. There's defiantly something fell about them", said old Herny, who was the resident expert when it came to fell beasts.  
  
"Do something Abram"  
  
"Yeah c'mon they're spoiling the mood"  
  
As if to emphasis this point, one of the black cloaks let out a succession of blood curdling hisses, startling the hobbits (two of which fell off their stools). The black cloaks paid them no heed though and continued they're strange conversation. It could have been their equivalent to laughter Abram supposed, but the noise had sent a chill to the very core of his soul. After some time Joni picked himself up off the floor. He was wide eyed with fear but Abram suspected he looked no better. "What we need..", said the terrified hobbit, "is a hero."  
  
Bang. The door to the inn flew open. And there, outlined by the moonlight stood a ranger. Rangers were dangerous people every one knew, they roamed the wilds keeping evil away from the towns and villages, Abram could not have wished for a better visitor. The other hobbits also looked somewhat relieved and old Herny was smiling, he loved rangers, they knew a lot about fell beasts. Only the black cloaks seemed uninterested as the stranger walked into the inns light. He was tall with broad shoulders, although most of his figure was hidden by a rough brown travelling cloak. His face was shadowed by his hood but for an unshaved chin. As his cloaks shifted the hobbits saw a glimpse of a sword scabbard and tattered clothing that seemed patched together in several places. Rangers were often scruffy but what did one expect from someone who travelled the wilds? Anyone who underestimated them were fools. Abram suspected the black cloaks had done just that judging by their lack of interest. As the ranger moved up to the bar Abram recognised him as "Walker", what his real name was, no one knew, rangers had many names. To Herny's delight Walker took the stool next to him. "A pint of Ale", Walker said in his gruff voice. Abram reached for a gleaming metal pitcher, "Its always good to see rangers in here", he said as he worked the tap, "why they always see that no trouble comes to an inn", Abram gave a slight nod in the direction of the fireplace. Walker however seemed too preoccupied to notice. It was often like this with Walker Abram thought, he'd talk of his problems for a while and then move to his favourite corner for the rest of the night. No one was sure why he did this exactly, but everyone agreed he looked very enigmatic in his corner.  
  
"We had another row", Walker said mournfully  
  
Abram sighed. A little talk wouldn't hurt. Somewhere along the lines though, he would have to steer the conversation towards a certain group of faceless men by the fire.  
  
"What was this one about?", said Abram in his best "understanding barman" voice.  
  
"The usual", the ranger sniffed, "King this and Gondor that. She said if I didn't become a king by next year the marriage is off"  
  
To this, several hobbits sucked in their breath. "I remember when my wife refused to move in with me until I fixed a leak in the roof", said old Herny.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"Well..I got the builders in. A good job they did too"  
  
Walker considered this for a moment, then shook his head, "its not the same"  
  
"Of course not", Abram agreed, "We've all had women demand things of us.", the hobbits nodded, "but becoming a king is a bit steep"  
  
"yes. Its not as if I can just become a king like that!", annoyance crept into Walkers voice  
  
No one suggested he find another girl. Abram had once done so, and Walker had come over all depressed at the prospect, and had gone into his corner prematurely and sniffled all night.  
  
"She's trying to give me the sword of kings now", said Walker, "I don't want to be a king", he added hopelessly  
  
"don't take it", Joni warned, "If you do she'll think you've agreed to become a king", to this the hobbits nodded and so did walker, if a little hesitantly.  
  
"What if you became a captain or a lord of something?", Abram offered  
  
Walker resignedly shook his head, "no..its a king or nothing", and with that he emptied the last of his ale and started to eye his regular corner.  
  
Abram knew it was now or never, "Erm.Walker you know how rangers keep evil away.."  
  
The ranger nodded vaguely while he stared into the corner of the room.  
  
"and fell beasts", old Herny added.  
  
"Well we have a problem with..er.. evil tonight. If you haven't noticed", he pointed.  
  
Walker followed his gaze. "Agh!", he yelped, knocking his pitcher over with a clatter. "I'm off!"  
  
Walker jumped up from his stool. Then just as quickly sat back down as one of the black cloaks turned its faceless gaze towards them. "sssssssssssssssss!", it hissed. The ranger and hobbits cowered in silence. The black cloak turned back to its companions.  
  
Abram let out a sigh of relief, and by the sound of it he had not been the only one holding his breath. This was not the reaction he had hoped for. Walker was staring intently at his shoes and Abram thought he heard the man mutter "the nine". If a ranger could not help them who could? The group by the bar held its silence for another five minutes. At last Walker made to get up, but several desperate hands gripped him, "walker you're our last hope!", Abram whispered.  
  
"I am?", The ranger stood for a moment while the hobbits held onto him. Slowly he lifted his head up, and for a moment Abram thought he saw pride twinkle in his dark eyes. He surveyed the frightened hobbits before him and then faced Abram. "Very well", his voice was leaden and had a grim finality about it, "I will rid you of these.things".  
  
The hobbits released their hold as Walker fingered his sword. The tension was palpable. Abram winced as Walker turned towards the black cloaks. A fight in the Blue Pheasant! Was this, after all the best way to deal with the situation? Walker was certainly outnumbered...What if he lost? The other hobbits looked just as tense as Abram felt. Walker stalked closer to the black cloaks. "rangers can do anything", Joni whispered. Although to Abram it sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself. Then there was a crash which made the hobbits cringe in fear as Walker tripped over a stool. Three of the black ones turned to regard the ranger sprawled unmoving on the floor. Walker lay there, as still as the hobbits who watched, frozen in horror. Then, silently and smoothly the faceless ones turned away to continue they're unnatural conversation. Abram aloud himself to breath once more.  
  
"Do you think he's unconscious?" whispered Joni  
  
The hobbits continued to watch.  
  
"There he moved!", Abram kept his voice as low as he could through the excitement.  
  
The other hobbits leaned forwards on their stools. Old Herny nodded. "Aye, he just moved his head"  
  
"He getting up!", Joni whispered, whooping silently  
  
Walker had managed to get to his feet. The black cloaks were still oblivious. The ranger drew closer once more, if unsteadily. He was now at sword length from the nearest black cloak. To Abram the seconds that past seemed to stretch out for minutes as Walker slowly reached a hand beneath his travelling cloak. Even the fire seemed to have stopped flickering. The black cloaks monstrous shadows etched unmoving on the walls as if they too were holding their breath. Then Walker slowly brought his swordless hand back out. Silently he melted away from the black cloaks, towards the doors. The last few paces he broke into a run as he charged through into the night.  
  
The hobbits were stunned.  
  
"Did he just?", Joni began, open mouthed  
  
"Bugger it", Old Herny swore  
  
"Maybe he's got a plan. Maybe he's coming back with something.", one of the younger hobbits said hopefully  
  
However they're hopes were dashed once more as out of the window the hobbits watched a ranger-shaped object receding into the moon lit distance...  
  
Cowards. Abram thought sullenly as he polished the last ale tap. It was past midnight. The black cloaks were still here and the only hobbit in the room was now himself. They had all, one by one followed Walkers example. Cowards. Abram sighed to himself. At least the bar was looking good, the wood was gleaming dully in the firelight and behind that forty metal pitchers reflected his face. If I get murdered by these monsters he thought, at least people would say he kept a clean establishment. It wasn't much consolation.  
  
The noise of stools dragging brought his head up. The black cloaks were standing now, heads brushing the roof, faceless gaze swallowing him. "Good.. Night", he croaked. Hoping against hope that they would leave. Then, wordlessly they turned as one and orderly filed out of the door. To his horror the last one stopped at the doorway and turned to look straight into him.  
  
"Have yousssss seen any ringsssss of power?"  
  
".er, no..no I haven't"  
  
The black cloak stood basked in ethereal moonlight for a moment more, then it was gone. A few minutes later Abram sagged in relief as he watched from the window, nine fire eyed horses and their black riders gallop into the old forest.  
  
The End  
  
Next time: Tom Bombadil, maybe. 


	9. The Old Forest

Foreword: Sorry its been a while since I updated. I had many project deadlines at university and I still didn't get them all done. But now I've got a nice long Christmas break, and I have missed writing these. Thanks reviewer Fireblade K' Chona , its good to know someone is still reading these, even if that someone is quite obviously insane (I read your bio).  
  
The Old Forest part 1  
  
Frodo and his three companions had left the Shire and were now somewhere in the Old forest. It had been both a tense and boring journey. Firstly they were on tenterhooks after narrowly escaping a Black Rider (by hiding behind a log), they spent every second looking over their shoulders until they reached the cover of the trees. However, when stopped for a pipe weed break Sam had let go of the tenterhooks, meaning the Hobbits had to continue on foot and at a much slower pace. After that it had become rather boring, the only entertainment coming from a "Travel Chess" game that Frodo had brought. In the last two days Frodo had been finding it difficult to sleep and that is where our tale continues.  
  
Frodo couldn't sleep. Not because of the uneven, twig covered land he lay on, nor his friends snoring. He opened his eyes. This deep in the Old Forest it was always dark, the trees knitted malevolently close, weaving a blanket of twisted branches above him. Rubbing his eyes he sat up and looked at his friends sourly. They were well lost in sleep, bundled logs, breathing steadily amongst a few tendrils of moonlight that the matted trees allowed through. Apart from the steady rise-fall of their chests the forest was still.  
  
"La-di-doo-da-ho-hum-laha-la"  
  
He worked his mouth and found it was dry. He was not surprised, for Frodo was now resigned to how thick the air hung, warm, humid and still. This far in, the trees dictated the climate, closing and strangling the air. Sighing, Frodo scrambled amongst his cloaks for his water bottle. On finding it he unstoppered it and drank deeply. Maybe a drink would help him sleep.  
  
"La-di-doo-da-ho-hum-laha-la"  
  
That voice again! Or at least he thought he had heard something. Something just out of his hearing range, nagging, singing, no! What was happening to him? Resolutely He settled into the most comfortable position he could improvise and closed his eyes. He willed himself to sleep, to no avail. Something was keeping him awake. Frodo sat up once more, scrutinising his surroundings. Was it the trees? Quite possible he thought. A few days ago he would never have believed that trees had feelings, but now he knew different. The trees of the Old forest were awake, and he suspected their feelings towards travellers were far from friendly. He had been hit by several falling acorns and a birds nest yesterday. Sam had been tripped by a root and Pippin claimed an oak tree had stolen his wallet. Frodo also suspected the trees could talk to each other as well. For the trees sometimes rustled their leaves as if whispering amongst themselves. However there was never any wind. It made him shiver.  
  
"La-di-doo-da-ho-hum-laha-la"  
  
"What?" Frodo said out loud and then wandered why he had said it. He shook his head. He was just tired, that's what it was, but for some time now he had the feeling that something was trying to talk to him. The trees? He must be imagining it. He hoped he was. Frodo didn't want to talk to trees; his life had gotten strange enough recently, without trees trying to contact him.  
  
"Good. I think you can hear me now", came a smooth sliding voice  
  
Frodo jumped upright. "Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
"Calm down"  
  
"Calm down? I'm talking to a damn tree!"  
  
"A tree! Ha! I am no tree! Guess again"  
  
Frodo cast around desperately. His heart thumped in his ears. All around him the trees lay still and as menacing as ever. Blackness filled what little he could see between the trees and all was shadow and night. But something must be watching him. Something must be able to see him, through that dark.  
  
"Where are you!" he shouted  
  
Sam groaned and turned over, still asleep. But the woods remained silent as ever.  
  
"No, not over there", the voice chided silkily, "I'm much closer than you think"  
  
"Where?", Frodo tensed and for a moment considered it might be Merry or Pippin playing a joke on him. He quickly dismissed the idea though. They slept soundly on, underneath the branches of a gnarled willow tree. Besides, no one could make a voice like that. Whatever it was, it wasn't human.  
  
"Very close"  
  
In a moment of cold realisation Frodo looked up. It was above him! In the branches!  
  
The nameless voice laughed, a cold chiming sound that made Frodo clamp his hands tightly across his ears.  
  
"No..not up there either. Look in your pocket"  
  
In his pocket? In any case Frodo had nothing else left to do but follow its instructions. He crept a trembling hand inside and pulled out the only thing he kept in his pocket. Secured by a looping silver chain, Frodo brought forth his Uncle Bilbo's ring.  
  
"Ta dar!"  
  
Frodo felt relief flow through him. He had been imagining some monster. A large wolf creature or some sort that lived amongst the twisted boroughs. He may have been talking to an item a jewellery, so he may in fact be mad but at least he wasn't about to be eaten.  
  
"A ring", he said dumbly  
  
"A ring! I am more than that! I am the one ring, the one that can rule all others. I can also make people invisible."  
  
"The one ring..I didn't know you could speak"  
  
"Well I can.telepathically. Only the one who bears me can hear me"  
  
"Bilbo never mentioned this"  
  
"I never talked to him"  
  
"Why talk to me?"  
  
"Because I'm intrigued. What's your name? Where are you taking me? And are you in any way evil?"  
  
Frodo shrugged to himself. It probably wouldn't hurt to answer a few questions. After all he was stuck with this ring until Bree so it might pay to be nice to it. "My names Frodo Baggins. I'm going to meet a friend in Bree and as to my evilness I'd have to say no, I'm not very evil."  
  
Then Frodo remembered something Gandalf had said, but it wasn't relevant and so it went unmentioned for now.  
  
"I see. Are you interested in evil by any chance? There are many career choices for a minion of the dark one."  
  
"Sorry I'm not interested in minnioning"  
  
"How about being all powerful?"  
  
Frodo thought about this. "Er.well maybe. Can you make me all powerful?"  
  
"....well I can make you invisible. That's nearly the same thing", after a few moments of silence the ring added, "you could spy on girls undressing"  
  
Frodo was tempted, however he now recalled Gandalf's warning that was hinted at in the previous paragraph.  
  
"Never put it on, for the agents of the dark one will be drawn to its presence!"  
  
He had no wish to draw the dark ones agents, not even in watercolours and so Frodo turned down the rings offer. Besides there never seemed to be many females around in Middle Earth. That or he hardly met any himself.  
  
"awww go on.. Put me on"  
  
"No", said Frodo sternly, "what I want to do now is go to sleep!"  
  
Frodo settled into his blankets and shut his eyes hoping that the ring would give up for now and allow him some rest. Unfortunately he was mistaken.  
  
"I demand that you put me on now!"  
  
"or else."  
  
"acknowledge me!"  
  
"I know you're still awake"  
  
"La-di-doo-da-ho-hum-laha-la"  
  
"That was the first line of a very long song in the Black speech of Mordor!"  
  
At this Frodo stirred and realised he must trick the ring if he wanted any sleep tonight. "Sing away...it soothes me"  
  
To this, the ring was quiet while it rested in Frodo's pocket, pondering its options. And to Frodo's relief the ring said no more. He was just drifting into sleep, he could feel himself going, warm and rested when Frodo heard a noise which made him sit up once more.  
  
The trees whispered. Frodo groaned, in his experience this always happened before he got something dropped on his head. However nothing happened. He waited. The silence lengthened, yet he knew in his heart that the trees had been plotting something. Then he heard a low crackling noise as if something large was moving. "What's happening?", he asked himself and cast about him, but the moon had gone behind the clouds and there was no light to see by.  
  
"remember the bit when I said "or else"?  
  
Frodo had a bad feeling about this, "what did you do?"  
  
"Nothing. However I did give a bit of encouragement to that big willow tree"  
  
"You can talk to trees?"  
  
"heh"  
  
Then, as if the moon itself was curious it left the clouds, sending dots of light through the branches. It wasn't much but Frodo could now make out his surroundings, and to his horror Merry and Pippin had disappeared. The willow tree they had lay seemed larger than it had before somehow.  
  
"That's right. The willow ate your friends"  
  
"Damn it!", Frodo swore kicking at the tree. Now Sam was awake. "What is it Mr Frodo?"  
  
"This tree ate Merry and Pippin!"  
  
"and that's not all", said the ring, its voice full of tinkling laughter  
  
Frodo sank onto his knees, eye's scanning the ground, "Nooooooo!"  
  
"yep"  
  
"my travel chess.."  
  
To be continued...  
  
Next week: Tom Bombadil 


	10. Part 2

Authors Note: Sorry its been so long since I last updated but my computers been broken for the last three weeks. Suffice to say: Stay away from Windows ME like the plague. Also two reviewers pointed out a mistake: "Second Bagginess" in the first tale should indeed be "Sackville Bagginses".  
  
In the House of Tom Bombadil..  
  
Frodo awoke in a soft feathered bed to the peaceful sounds of birds singing. The room he was in contained three other beds, all of which looked to have been slept in recently but were now empty. Stretching, he yawned and got up, his clothes had been neatly stacked at the foot of his bed, with the ring of power resting contemptibly on top.  
  
"Yeuch. Put some clothes on"  
  
Frodo ignored the ring and began to dress.  
  
"So..", said the ring, presumably to make conversation, "being rescued by a brightly coloured singing fat man was not what either of us expected eh?"  
  
Frodo buttoned up his shirt without answer. If it hadn't been for the ring there would have been no need for rescue. It had encouraged a willow tree to eat Merry and Pippin. Luckily neither of the hobbits had been harmed, just locked inside until Tom Bombadil had arrived on the scene. After hearing Frodo and Sam shouting for help from afar he had bounded up to the panicky hobbits and delivered some harsh words to the offending tree which then released his two friends in a fountain of sap. He then proclaimed they should spend the night at his house. An offer none of them could refuse after three straight nights in a forest. Frodo had finished dressing now and picked up the ring and slipped it into his pocket. "Get this place cleaned" , the ring complained.  
  
Frodo left his room through a wide oak door and instantly heard several sounds from downstairs. Sam, Merry and Pippin were all in fine moods and their laughter drifted up to Frodo, however Tom was the loudest of all, singing at the top of his jolly voice:  
  
"Do you believe in a thing called love? Just listen to the rhythm of my heart."  
  
Then to Frodo's surprise a door on the landing opened next to him and out stepped the most beautiful woman Frodo had ever seen. She was slender and graceful, dressed in silver- green with glistening silver-gold hair which flowed to her waist. "Hello", said Frodo.  
  
She smiled at him in a half distracted way and then drifted down the stairs, Frodo followed.  
  
"Ah!", shouted Tom, for he could not talk at a normal level, "This is Goldberry!"  
  
"Your wife?" asked Merry  
  
Tom burst out laughing as if it was some tremendous joke. "My lady", he said.  
  
Merry gave him a strange look, "so she's your wife then?"  
  
"She is who she is, the river daughter, I found amongst the reeds, singing"  
  
"Alright", said Merry, giving up.  
  
Frodo joined his friends at the table, although none of them noticed, they were all staring at Goldberry. Tom's table was bursting with food and Frodo picked several warm bread rolls and started munching his way through them. His friends had already eaten so he let them do the talking. Goldberry sat next to Pippin who started to look very smug about it.  
  
"Well", said Tom, who glanced out of the window where dark clouds were gathering, "Today is a good day for telling tales I think!"  
  
With that Tom launched into some of the most boring stories the hobbits had ever endured. By the time Frodo had finished breakfast, Sam, Merry and Pippin were slumped into their chairs with heavy eyes. Tom's tale was of the first acorn and the way of trees and the forests. His talk then dragged itself through the woods, falling into streams and ponds, over pebbles and rocks and then onto more rocks before wilting into flowers and grass. Now Frodo was almost asleep as well, however something that Tom said suddenly piqued his interest. For he was talking of the Barrow Downs which was where Frodo must head next.  
  
"Tom? They say evil Wight's haunt the downs.. Is that true?"  
  
"Aye. And worse things than them.", warned Tom who looked over his shoulder out of the window.  
  
"You see where the valley dips", he pointed, "the one with the intimidating fog. That's the Barrow Downs! I'd stay away from there if I were you"  
  
"But what's worse than Wight's?", asked Frodo impatient.  
  
Tom sighed and looked at Frodo with eyes that had suddenly lost their sparkle.  
  
"Store managers"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Store managers, my young Frodo. From another age. Whether they are from our future or past I cannot say. But in this different world Frodo, major retailing outlets realised their store managers were not only unnecessary but in many cases incompetent as well. As a result they were ousted from society and banished to another time period. Now, bereft of sale assistants to rule, they turned to the only thing they were fit to manage... The undead wights of the Barrow Downs There they continue to mess up rotas, pester underlings and state the obvious. They are the Team Leaders, Frodo, supervisors, and you must not go near them or their false laughter!"  
  
And as Frodo stared at the Downs, a faint voice drifted up to them from the mists, "from now on we'll be doing group huddles.."  
  
He shivered. Then Tom clapped his hands, waking the other hobbits with a start.  
  
"But let us not talk of such things, for some things are ill to talk of even in daylight! Let us instead talk of how you came to be deep in my woods last night."  
  
And so Frodo recounted their tale so far. Of Bilbo's magic ring and Gandalf's scary letters, to the nine and their dramatic rescue of Merry and Pippin from the farmers right up to when the ring incited a tree to eat the very same expendable hobbits. He thought he could trust Tom Bombadil. The man was clearly insane but he seemed far too friendly to be an agent of the enemy.  
  
Once Frodo finished Tom nodded and said, "Can I see this ring?"  
  
So Frodo brought it out of his pocket and handed it trustingly to Tom. The jolly man examined it for a second and then flicked it up in the air where it landed on his nose, snorting he dislodged it to fall into his right hand before moving his left hand across, he did something fancy and then moved his hands apart, palm upwards. The ring was in neither. The hobbits moved closer.  
  
"How did you?", said Merry, open mouthed  
  
"Was that magic?", asked Sam  
  
However, Frodo knew it was just a clever illusion on Tom's part. He could hear the rings muffled outrage from somewhere nearby. Then Tom simply angled his arm vertically and the ring slid out of his coat sleeve onto his lap. The hobbits clapped.  
  
"Do another!", Merry and Pippin shouted  
  
"Alright", and with that Tom calmly popped the ring into his mouth and swallowed.  
  
At this the hobbits were openly shocked.  
  
"Tell me you didn't just eat my ring!"  
  
"I can't believe it!", added Sam, "Gandalf'l kill im!"  
  
Tom merely smiled and held up a finger for silence. Then his pink face grew red with strain and he farted loudly. Reaching around his back he rifled a hand through his pants and after a bit of fiddling pulled out the one ring. He placed it on the table.  
  
"oooh.I've not done that in ages, I'm going to be sore tonight!"  
  
"That was great!", clapped Pippin. Then he stopped when no one else joined in. Suddenly it had got all too real.  
  
The ring was livid. "Aaaaargh! Oh my God! Get me out of here, away from that maniac! You don't wanna know were I've just been!"  
  
Understandably Frodo didn't exactly want to pick up the ring at the moment so he excused himself to help Goldberry in the kitchen. She was pouring tea from a leaf-green teapot into six mugs whilst humming one of Tom's annoying songs. "Can I help you with anything?"  
  
"you could add the milk"  
  
"I dunno I'm not good with milk. Perhaps I could carry the tray?"  
  
"No. I like carrying the tray"  
  
"Oh. How about I.. what are you adding them for?"  
  
Goldberry smiled at him and dropped a leaf into the last mug.  
  
"Erm ..anyway, Goldberry?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"I've been wanting to ask you.. Who exactly is Tom Bombadil?"  
  
"Why, he is the Master of course"  
  
"Er.. Right. So what does that mean?"  
  
She gave him another glazed smile. "Tom's songs are louder, his tales are better and he can run faster"  
  
"I see", said Frodo, more confused now, than before.  
  
Then Goldberry leant down to Frodo in a motherly way, "Here", she said, pressing a withered leaf into his hand. Then she picked up her tray and breezed into the main room. Frodo tucked the leaf away in his pocket and followed. Tom could be heard singing.  
  
"Stop right there, thank you very much I need somebody with the human touch Hey you always on the run Gotta slow it down baby gotta have some fun!"  
  
"Ah! Here's the tea!", He bellowed, as Goldberry handed him a steaming mug. He paused to fish out a dripping leaf and whispered to Frodo, "She makes good tea. but sometimes she puts strange things in"  
  
Frodo nodded and extracted the pinecone bobbing on the top his drink. Behind him, Merry spat out a small twig while Pippin was absorbed in concentration as whatever was in his mug kept biting his fingers when he went near it. Sam's face had turned an unusual green colour.  
  
And so past a happy day in the House of Tom Bombadil. Tom told his guests yet more tales and taught his guests many new songs. The Hobbits stay there was marred only by Pippin, who later confided that he had swallowed the ring of power in an attempt to ape Tom's trick. After a lengthy discussion with Tom who claimed you had to be "Master" before one could pull off such a trick it was agreed upon that the ring must be somewhere in Pippin's digestive system.  
  
Next Time: The Hobbits face the Barrow Downs and Tom warns them that while the ring is still inside Pippin, he may experience evil side affects. 


	11. Part 3

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, the same applies to my previous chapter where I forgot to include a disclaimer. Additionally anything I have written here is untrue/ and or stupid and not to be confused with J.R.R Tolkiens "The Lord of the Rings" – which is actually quite good.  
  
Foreword: At the end of our previous chapter Pippin had swallowed the ring of power in an attempt to ape Tombombadil's trick. However Pippin is just a hobbit and not a "master" like Tom so the ring currently resides somewhere inside his digestive system. As a consequence, Pippin begins to experience accelerated evil side effects. This side story was planned in the original text but was scrapped at the last minute to save time and avoid morality issues. (that become apparent at a later stage)  
  
Part 3  
  
Wrapped snugly in his bed, Fredegar decided he would have another lie- in. How lucky he had been he reflected to have missed out on Frodo's journey. His broken ankle (a blessing in disguise) was mending nicely, his hobbit hole was comfortable and warm, so was the weather, if indeed he had any inclination to go outside, which he didn't. Instead he nuzzled his pillow indulgently and closed his eyes. Just before he lost himself to sleep, a worrying thought flitted across his mind. What if Frodo and the others come back as rich heroes whose names would ever be engraved in hobbit history?...........Naw....it was unlikely.  
  
The same fine weather saw Frodo and his friend's departure from Tom's house.  
  
"Remember!", said Tom, "stay away from the Barrow Downs....and watch young Pippin here.... For he has swallowed the ring of power and may experience evil side effects!"  
  
At this the hobbits edged slightly away from Pippin who complained, "I don't feel evil!"  
  
Although Frodo for one was quite relieved that he didn't have to deal with the ring for a time, until of course it passed through Pippins system.  
  
"Well be sure to tell us when you do start to feel evil", warned Sam  
  
"And now before you depart from my gay house-"  
  
"Er... is that gay as in happy, or"  
  
Tom talked over Frodo: "I will teach you a song to sing in case you stray into trouble today. Simply sing it, and I will come to you're aid!"  
  
The hobbits looked at each other doubtfully.  
  
"Ho! Tombombadil, Tombombadillo! By water, wood and hill, by reed and willow, Ho! Tombombadil, like a lightening flash, Ho! Tombombadil, turn our foes to mash! You're boots are yellow, your eyes are bright, Ho! Tombombadil, what a merry sight! For dangers lurks, shadow and death to name a few, Come quick Tombombadil, for my pants are filled with poo!"  
  
On that note the hobbits departed, waving back to Tom and Goldberry they set about their journey. For a time they travelled in good spirits, joking with each other, laughing and singing hobbit songs.  
  
"For we are four hobbits, on our merry way! For we are four hobbits, travelling by the day! For we are brave hobbits, out to make a stand! For we are brave hobbits, with our route unplanned! For we are four hobbits, set out for strange land!"  
  
And so on...  
  
"I wonder if that song of Toms actually works?", mused Frodo as the four hobbits settled down for a rest.  
  
The day had grown darker, and an unusual stone nearby cast its shadow over them. The shadow looked somewhat like a hamster.  
  
"Well there's only one way to find out !", said Merry who was now lighting up a pipe with Pippin. ("not feeling evil you?") as he handed him some pipe weed.  
  
Together they sang the song  
  
"......my pants are filled with poo!"  
  
(Pippin ended the song in hysterical laughter)  
  
Silence. "I think he was joking", offered Sam who was now cooking sausages over a fire.  
  
"Yeah....suppose it is a bit silly really", said Merry.  
  
However, just as the hobbits were about to give up hope they heard Tom wailing. Smash! The rotund man dropped out of the sky and into Sam's fire, scattering sausages.  
  
"Aaaaagh! It burns!", he yelled, jumping out of the fire with his blue coat in flames. Luckily one does not become a "master" without knowing how to act in such a situation and Tom rolled on the floor until the flames went out.  
  
"What on earths wrong?", he said dusting off his charred jacket  
  
"Ah... sorry Tom we were just testing the song to make sure it works"  
  
"Well that makes some sense I'll grant you", he puffed, "but please from now on just use it in emergencies! I get enough hoaxes as it is....And that fire really was hot"  
  
The hobbits nodded, except Pippin who was grinning in a disconcerting way. However, no one noticed.  
  
Sam was retrieving his sausages, "Well we didn't think you'd come falling from the sky, look you've ruined Mr Frodo's dinner!"  
  
"Oh yes!", said Tom brightly, "that reminds me I haven't eaten yet!"  
  
Sam had just gathered back all his sausages when Tom swiped them out of his open palms.  
  
"Ah! These will do nicely, thanks!", he said, as he rose into the air and flew off before Sam could react.  
  
"There goes dinner...", said Sam, unhappily staring at a receding dot in the horizon. Later that night, three hobbits slept wrapped tightly in their blankets while one of their number carved letters into the dirt....  
  
Authors note: Alright that was quite a short chapter, but the next one will be much bigger, and will be written much quicker too! 


	12. Of Wights and Store Managers

Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine in any shape or form. I also do not have anything against Store Managers and in no way condone the use of violence towards them.  
  
The Barrow Downs  
  
The next morning Frodo awoke in a bad mood. He had just got used to sleeping in proper beds again at Tom's house, only to find himself uncomfortable on hard ground once more. By the look of it, his friends had also found it a difficult night. Especially Pippin thought Frodo warily, his cousin was sat, haunched under the shadow of the hamster shaped stone, he looked pale with hooded eyes that darted left to right shiftily. Evil or just tired? It was a hard one to call, but one thing was for certain: he should keep a watchful eye on Pippin, who in middle earth knew how the ring was affecting him?  
  
One hobbits mood was not dampened however.  
  
"Mr Frodo you're awake! I'll make some breakfast right away!"  
  
Frodo nodded, his attention still on Pippin. Sam followed his gaze. "Not looking good is he?", whispered Sam, "maybe we should bind his hands or something....y'know in case he turns evil when we're asleep....."  
  
Frodo recoiled at the idea of doing that to one of his friends.... But then it did make sense, maybe, thought Frodo if we knew he was becoming dangerously evil. But how could one tell? Who knew whether Pippin was right at this moment plotting some fell dead or just spending some time in innocent contemplation. Pippin caught Frodo staring at him and returned his gaze, with a small, one sided smile. Right! There was no doubt about it.....That smile had all the hallmarks of evil.....If only the ring would hurry up and pass through his system thought Frodo.  
  
"I think he's constipated...", whispered Sam, seemingly reading his masters mind.  
  
While Sam cooked bacon and eggs Frodo sat back down in his blankets, listening to the hissing noises of the food but also surreptitiously studying Pippin. The following characteristics Frodo noted in his friends behaviour where....  
  
Shifty eyes - Almost certainly an evil trait, often acting as a precursory warning to future acts of betrayal  
  
Pale look - Gave the impression he spent too much time indoors, plotting.  
  
Excessive twitching - Possibly indicated insanity or paranoia, maybe a caffeine overdose  
  
Slight smile - Hinted at knowledge, hidden knowledge, scary knowledge. Also, maybe plotting related  
  
Sat in the shadows – Probably a metaphor  
  
However, Frodo's train of thoughts was broken abruptly by Merry screaming.  
  
"Aaaaaghh!" (like that)  
  
Frodo and Sam dashed over to Merry who had taken to wandering since the advent of Pippins possible link to evil. They found Merry staring down at a piece of seemingly empty ground.  
  
"What is it!, shouted Frodo, as the two hobbits arrived . Merry wordlessly pointed.  
  
In the dirt someone had scraped letters with a stone, letters spelling.....  
  
B-O-T-T-O-M  
  
Frodo and Sam gasped. "Who could have done such a thing?", but they already knew....  
  
Footsteps padded behind them. "What's wrong?", asked Pippin, in a voice Frodo would describe as quasi-evil.  
  
Merry rounded on his friend. "Look at the ground!"  
  
Pippin examined the word. Nonchalant: "Who did that?"  
  
Three hobbits looked at him.  
  
"What me? Why would I do that?"  
  
"Don't play innocent!", said Merry, "we all know you're starting to turn evil!"  
  
"But what's evil with "bottom?"  
  
"It's a start...", replied Merry, "what will we find tomorrow morning Pip? "Bum", perhaps?"  
  
"Or Arse!", put in Frodo, "...........or penis!"  
  
"Exactly!", said Merry, "where would it end?"  
  
Pippins face darkened and he withdrew a step, "you can't prove it was me! I'm not as evil as you seem to think......who honestly saw me writing that? I'll tell you, no one!"  
  
Tombombadil stepped out from behind a bush, "Actually, I did!"  
  
The hobbits all gasped in a way that indicated surprise.  
  
"Tom what are you doing here?", said Frodo  
  
"Yeah", rejoined Sam suspiciously eyeing a piece of bacon stuck to Toms blue jacket , "No one sang you're song..."  
  
"Aye! But I decided to keep watch for you last night, fearing the rings evil would turn you're friend against you. Alas old Tom was right!"  
  
At this Pippin started to chuckle to himself, then it turned into laughter with the hysterical edge of an evil genius, "So now you know! It was me! And I'd do it again I tell you!", then, swirling his cloak around he fled laughing"  
  
"Hahahahahahahaha........."  
  
"Quick he's heading for the Barrow Downs!", shrieked Merry  
  
The three hobbits spurred after him, Merry in the lead, followed by Frodo and then Sam. however a brightly coloured blur soon overtook the hobbits.  
  
"So long my friends! Remember if ye need me sing my song!", Tom vanished as Pippin disappeared into the thick fog of the Barrow Downs.  
  
"Arse!", Frodo swore, "how are we going to find him in there?"  
  
The three hobbits had stopped on the brink of the fog. Frodo did some quick thinking. He analysed his options. Firstly he wasn't going anywhere inhabited by undead wights, on the other hand he quite liked Pippin, also he didn't want to have to tell Gandalf he'd lost the ring. He could imagine how that scene would play out......  
  
Gandalf: Ah! Frodo have a beer on me!  
  
Frodo: Thanks  
  
Gandalf: I trust you've kept the ring safe?  
  
Frodo: Of course  
  
Gandalf: Can I see it?  
  
Frodo: No  
  
Gandalf: Oh, alright then  
  
Another consideration was that if he didn't recover the ring then Sauron would probably cover the world in a second darkness...........which didn't sound nice.  
  
"Do not fear!" , said Merry, "By spending so much time in the company of Pippin, I have developed a kind of sixth sense as to his whereabouts, I'm sure I could track him!", and with that Merry bravely jumped into the mist. Frodo hesitated.  
  
"Don't worry Mr Frodo I'll protect you!"  
  
"Fine!", he said dully and followed after Merry, with Sam bringing up the rear.  
  
Like molesting fingers, cloying tendrils of mist swirled about the three hobbits, penetrating their clothes with stickiness and dulling all sound, Frodo felt something brush his rear.  
  
"Sorry", said Sam from behind him, "I slipped"  
  
"Pippiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin", called Merry, but his shouts were in vain, no one answered.  
  
Time dragged, like Frodo's wet cloths and soon the light of the day faded. Its hopeless thought Frodo, even if we could see anything, Pippin doesn't want to be found. He continued for a short while, his mind wandering in the blank surroundings before he suggested a break. No one answered. Suddenly panic seized Frodo, where were his friends. He couldn't see them! How long had they been split up? If only he had paid more attention!  
  
"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam!"  
  
"Merrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!"  
  
Silence. Well all he could do now was continue in the direction he'd been heading and hopefully he'd reach the end of this fog. Frodo didn't continue for much longer however, his hobbit feet tripped on cold stone and he fell. Everything went black.  
  
Later (for he had no idea for how long he'd been out for) he awoke on a moderately cushioned chair. Through the mist he discerned that he was part of a circle of chairs. On each chair skeletal shapes moved restlessly. Gold rings, bracelets and chains bedecked their ravaged forms with the cold clink of bone on metal. Their eyes were black pits, filled with malice. At the head of the circle, for that was on who the wight's concentrated their attention, stood a plain looking women with a sensible haircut and a smart – casual suite with a cringe worthy smile. A Store Manager! Frodo remembered Toms warning and shivered. To his left something nudged him. Frodo tried to ignore it.  
  
"Pssssst! Mr Frodo!"  
  
Frodo's heart leapt, Sam sat next to him and Merry next to Sam. He was not alone!  
  
"How did you two get caught?", Frodo whispered.  
  
But the Store Manager had started to speak in over-happy tones.  
  
"Alright, hello everyone! Let's get to know each other a bit better by introducing each other! Let's start with you!", she pointed to Frodo  
  
"Er....Frodo Baggins"  
  
"Samwise Gamgee"  
  
"Merriadoc Brandybuck"  
  
"Athelus Agamoor", said the wight next to Merry in its dead voice  
  
"Drackin Taiden...."  
  
"We have to get out of here!", Frodo whispered to his friends  
  
They nodded, "the song!", suggested Sam  
  
"Yes. But we must find a moment to sing it in!"  
  
An enthusiastically faceless voice cut in, "No talking back there please!"  
  
"Dave"  
  
The introductions were over. "Now I don't want anyone to feel nervous because this is a formal occasion! So we'll play a game to get to know one another!", She produced a small ball, "We have to throw the ball to one another and say that persons name! I'll start us off!"  
  
Frodo hissed, "Quick! The song!"  
  
"Athelus!", the Store Manager shouted, the wight dropped the ball as two of its fingers snapped off. The Store manager laughed hysterically for a moment. The wight retrieved the ball and it cold eyes roamed the circle.  
  
"Merry", his friend jumped at the mention of his name and narrowly avoided dropping the ball. The Store manager forced laughter, as if to say "we're all having a good time aren't we?".  
  
Merry floundered for a moment, then said, "Sam!", and lamely passed it to him.  
  
Sam said, "Mr Frodo!", and the ball passed into Frodo's hand  
  
Frodo was just about to pass it back to Sam when the Store manager intervened. "Pass it to someone you don't know", she said, smiling broadly.  
  
Mentally Frodo said "Arse!", he hadn't been paying attention, he didn't know anyone else's name!  
  
Then, a moment of inspiration came to Frodo, he shouted "Moron!", and hurled the ball at the Store managers face. She recoiled as it smashed into her nose. He stood up. Now was the time!  
  
"Ho! Tombombadil, Tombombadillo!  
  
By water, wood and hill, by reed and willow,  
  
Ho! Tombombadil, like a lightening flash,  
  
Ho! Tombombadil, turn our foes to mash!  
  
You're boots are yellow, your eyes are bright,  
  
Ho! Tombombadil, what a merry sight!  
  
For dangers lurks, shadow and death to name a few,  
  
Come quick Tombombadil, for my pants are filled with poo!"  
  
Sam and Merry leapt up, their chairs clattering to the cold ground. The Store manager recovered, holding her nose, "Get them!" she shrieked pointing at the three hobbits. At this command the wights rose stiffly and began to shamble towards our heroes. In a flash Sam had his knife out, "You stay away from Mr Frodo!"  
  
In a detached sort of way Frodo could hear Tombambadil getting closer, but his attention was mainly focused on the attacking wights. Sam met the first one, his knife severed its head in one slash. Next two of them came at once. Sam spun, ducking a bony swipe, then took off the wights arm while his right leg kicked at the second one's shin, sending its skeletal leg flying, meaning it must now hop to the attack.  
  
"Aaaaaaaargh!", Tombombadil fell from the sky in a rush of colour. Crack! He landed on the Store manager. At the appearance of the "Master", the undead wights fled, one hopping into the mists.  
  
"Never fear young hobbits for Tombombadil is here to save ye!"  
  
"Yeah thanks Tom", said Frodo, "Do you know a way out of this fog?"  
  
Later that day the hobbits cheered as they were led out, into the blinding brightness of daylight.  
  
"To celebrate!", enthused Tom, "Let us cast off our clothes!"  
  
"No", said Frodo  
  
Tombombadil shrugged, "fine....."  
  
Then Merry said, "Tombombadil.... We strayed into the Barrow Downs to find Pippin, but alas we found no trace of him...."  
  
Tom stroked his chin. "My master senses tell me you shouldn't worry too much about it. Continue you're journey and he will find you!"  
  
Meanwhile.... Deep in the fog of the Barrow Downs Pippin stood in the midst of nine black cloaked horse men.  
  
"So youssssssssssss wantsss to join ussssssss?"  
  
"Yeah", said Pippin, "I'm a big fan, plus I know where to find the ring!"  
  
The Nazgul looked at each other.  
  
"Maybe", hissed one, "if he pasessss the tessst....."  
  
The other black riders nodded.  
  
The Nazgul that had spoken reached a mailed hand and lifted Pippin onto his horse. "Great!", said Pippin, the faint light through the mist illuminating a decidedly evil smile.  
  
Next time: Bree, the tenth Nazgul, and a ranger 


	13. The Prancing Pony

Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. Obviously.  
  
Foreword: Sorry its been a long time since I updated. I've had a lot of work on.  
  
The Prancing Pony  
  
Rain lashed from the cloud dark sky as three hobbits made a sodden journey through the winding streets of Bree, which were now more like winding streams. Passers by pushed past drunkenly splashing them and slurring insults such as, "watch where your going!", which was rather unfair as the three companions walked in orderly single file. From above they looked like three struggling shiny green/brown lumps of wet cloak, which is indeed just a bit of extra description.  
  
"I hope there's no more description to wait through", muttered Merry," I'm soaked. I just want to get out of this rain!"  
  
"What sort of place is the prancing pony anyway?", said Sam with a note of incredulity  
  
Frodo shrugged. Anywhere which had a roof seemed like a good idea just about now..... Although he had to admit, the "Prancing Pony" did sound a bit .....gay.  
  
"I would be wary of any place frequented by Gandalf", put in Merry, "after all, he likes the Shire"  
  
"And what's wrong with the Shire?", said Sam, aghast.  
  
Merry shrugged, "Maybe its me, but... recently the Shire seems a bit small to me, like I was destined for bigger things... plus crimes gone through the roof, cabbage theft is up 200% from last year"  
  
"Yeah. Only since you and Pippin started stealing cabbage!", returned Sam.  
  
At the mention of Pippins name, Merry withdrew into silence. What had become of their liable friend, lost in the wilderness, with only the rings evil for companionship?  
  
At last the hobbits reached the inn of the "Prancing Pony". It sign battered back and forth in the rain. Despite their misgivings the hobbits pushed eagerly through the large oak door, while noting a poster in the window proclaiming "topless waiting tonight!"  
  
Inside, the inn was both welcoming, in its warmth of a log fire and intimidating in its patronage who all looked extremely dodgy characters, none of whom could drink their beer without spilling it and they could all have done with a good wash.  
  
"Excuse me!", Frodo waved trying to get the barman's attention. "We're friends of Gandalf. Can you tell him we're here!"  
  
The paunchy barman towered over the hobbits, but looked down in a friendly manner.  
  
"Gandalf.....", said the barman, rubbing his bristly chin, "Gandalf.....Oh yes Gandalf! Old fellow, likes Morris dancing!"  
  
The hobbits nodded uncertainly.  
  
"Not seen him since last years Morris dance-off"  
  
Later that night three hobbits sat, depressed and directionless at the back of the inn.  
  
"What now?", said Sam  
  
"At least we came on topless night", said Merry, "Hey barman! It said topless waiting outside!"  
  
The portly barman, who had just finished serving a cloaked figure in the corner rolled his eyes and took his greasy shirt off, revealing a pale, flabby and extremely hairy chest. That made the hobbits feel worse. Merry almost threw up in his pint.  
  
"That man...", Sam nodded to the cloaked figure in the corner, "hasn't stopped staring at you since we came in"  
  
Frodo looked across the room. The man did indeed look suspicious. He drank and smoked alone for instance, his face was hidden beneath a dark hood which lended him an enigmatic air.  
  
It was while Frodo and his companions were staring at this strange man that ten sinister looking black cloaked figures walked in, one of whom was significantly smaller than the rest. However this small black-cloak was ushered to the front of them, to ask for a room. The topless innkeeper didn't really want to have such odd people staying, but the nine tall ones all had big swords....  
  
By the time Frodo had turned back to survey the room, the ten black-cloaks had ambled up the stairs to their rooms.  
  
Several drinks later the three hobbits stumbled up to their room. It had been a disappointing night, not one Gandalf had turned up, leaving Frodo in a state of confusion. What was he to do with this ring business now? He didn't even have the ring. But then remembered that Tombombadil had said "the ring will find you". Absently, Frodo wandered where Pippin was now... and was he still constipated. If Frodo hadn't drunk so much he would have realised the bedroom door was not locked and the lock had been forcibly broken...  
  
"Whaaaaaaaaaa!"  
  
As the three hobbits lurched into their darkened room, this was the noise that greeted them. It came from a tall scruffy looking man who was lying awkwardly on a hobbit-sized bed, his legs dangling off the edge.  
  
Frodo recognized him as the staring man from downstairs.  
  
The man flailed wildly. Reached for his sword and on realising it was on his bedside table and not at his hips, he did the next best thing he could think of. He hurled his pillow at Frodo. It missed.  
  
Frodo held up his hands.  
  
"Calm down! We're not going to harm you"  
  
At this the man stopped struggling to reach his sword. Maybe it was because of Frodo's words or perhaps he had just realised that they were only small hobbits.  
  
"You're in my room", he said accusingly  
  
"No you're in ours!" Frodo retorted, jangling his number 6 key, "look, this is room six and I have the number six key"  
  
The man squinted in the darkness, "Actually I have the number six key!", the stranger held out his room 9 key upside down.  
  
There followed half an hour of careful explanation, as Frodo convinced the man he was in the wrong room, at last the man grudgingly agreed. Amongst their talk the stranger revealed himself as a ranger named "Strider".  
  
Meanwhile, just along the corridor, in room eight, stood the Nazgul in an evil circle. At the centre of it Pippin explained the plan.  
  
"We take these sharp pointy tools", he pointed to the macabre swords each of the nine possessed, "and we kill everyone!"  
  
His companions took a moment to deliberate.  
  
"Andsssss the ringssssss bearer?"  
  
Pippin smiled. A decidedly evil smile. "Oh yes, I know he'll be in here somewhere. That's the beauty of my plan. If we kill everyone we're bound to kill the ring bearer!"  
  
The nazgul nodded agreement.  
  
"One more thing....", said Pippin as the nine reached for their swords, "Am I a full member now or what?"  
  
The Nazgul sighed as one.  
  
"Firsssssst you musssst passsss the initiation"  
  
"Well what is it? Come on I want to do this now!"  
  
Five minutes later ten murderous black cloaked figures stepped into the hallway, swords at the ready, they would be swift an efficient, slaying the occupants a room at a time.  
  
The smallest of their number held a long knife in his twisted grip. He had passed the initiation, it involved standing on one leg, blindfolded, whilst drinking a pint. He had also had to shave his pubes.  
  
Next time: A murderous killing spree with guest stars...  
  
PS If anyone still reads these then please review it to let me know. Do I have an audience? I'd count one person as an audience you know! 


	14. Prancing Pony Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. Which is just as well...  
  
Authors Note: This is the final part of my latest tale. A tale of evil, betrayal and constipation. Some guest character appear in this one from other well known fantasy books, apologies if you don't get the references, but its not too important anyhow. More apologises for the time it took to write this one, I've had a lot on recently, thanks to my one reviewer!  
  
Back in room 6 of the Prancing Pony inn, the hobbits had given up trying to persuade Strider to leave their room. He claimed to have just got himself "comfortable" on one of the hobbit beds. How exactly he'd managed to be comfortable on a bed designed for hobbits was anyone's guess. After more argument he confided that he was "scared of the dark" and that room 9, his rightful bedroom, had a big spider in last time he visited. At any length the hobbits eventually agreed to his presence as they did have four beds and this "Strider" seemed harmless enough. Pippin, the fourth member of their party was probably still missing in the Barrow Downs, Frodo suspected sourly, Merry in particular was feeling his absence keenest. Did Pippin now lay slain by some evil Wight? Had the Nine captured him? Had he been forcibly recruited by a Store Manager? He didn't know, but somehow Frodo had the feeling that Pippin was not too far away....  
  
In the hall, outside room 10, Pippin gestured for quiet from the nine Nazgul behind him, "Shhhhhhhh! I'm trying to listen", Pippin put his ear to the key hole...  
  
A discussion seemed to be taking place....  
  
"I'm afraid our troubles are not over..." (a woman's coolly modulated voice)  
  
"What? I thought we dispatched those Dark Hounds... and that Fade, the three grey men before that, a Draghkar, a Forsaken, seven Dark Friends and a whole horde of Trollocs!" (a young mans rather agitated voice)  
  
"Yes we did.....but the taint of the Dark One reaches far... we must now face....erm... Dark.... Chairs! Quick Rand! You maybe sitting on one! Get up quickly before it..........erm ....imprisons you with..... tainted..... magic?!"  
  
No sounds of movement followed.  
  
"Pah! Your making this up now aren't you? Its just getting silly..... I mean as soon as we run out of plot, you just introduce a new monster!" (a different mans voice)  
  
"Well.... It could be a Dark Chair..... sold its soul or maybe its cushion to Shaitan...did you notice it has no cushion?"  
  
"I thought you said we were never to name the Dark one lest it brings his attention down on you!" (the first mans voice)  
  
"Oh yes.... I forgot.... Mmmm...Oh no! Oooooooh" (the woman made fainting noises)  
  
Pippin had had enough. "Charge!", he bellowed.  
  
The Nazgul shoulder charged the door, sending it flying into the small, regal looking women standing in the middle of the room. At once the two men jumped up. One unsheathed a sword, the other took up a wooden quarter staff. Pippin lunged at the swordsman, his long knife flashing against the mans sword. The man attacked, Pippin parried a blow, ducked the next, before sending his knife deep into the mans chest. The man with the staff went down as well, surrounded by cloaked figures, "but I'm supposed to be lucky!", he wailed with his last breath.  
  
Back in room 6 no one was getting any sleep. Strider seemed quite excited by having company "like one of those sleep over's, Elrond banned". He seemed intent upon making conversation.  
  
"So.....", he genially began, (again) "What are hobbit parties like?"  
  
Frodo sighed, he wanted badly to close his eyes and just sleep. "Lots of drinking, dancing, music and food", answered Frodo.  
  
"Pippin used to play the banjo......", Merry said quietly.  
  
"Of course, there was fire works when Gandalf came", Sam put in.  
  
"Gandalf!", Strider blurted (Frodo heard the mans bed creak at sudden movement), "You know Gandalf?", Strider said urgently  
  
The hobbits were just as surprised, "yeah, we know Gandalf, that's why we're here, he was supposed to meet us....", said Frodo  
  
Strider gasped. His bed creaked some more and he fell out of it with a thump. "that's who you are then", the Ranger mumbled to himself softly. Frodo heard, and watched him walk to the small window and light a candle. He was tensed in his bed, ready to spring should Strider reach for his sword, was he an agent of Sauron?  
  
"Gandalf told me to be on the lookout for a group of four hobbits", he addressed to the room.  
  
"You're a friend of Gandalf?"  
  
"Aye, he asked me to take care of you, should he for any reason, not be able to meet you here"  
  
"I see", said Frodo, sitting up in his bed, Sam and Merry did likewise. Strider pulled his hood up to cloak his face, it instantly made him look more mysterious. "Are you scared?", he asked Frodo  
  
"Yes", Frodo admitted  
  
"Not nearly enough, I know what hunts you...."  
  
The hobbits drew in breath, Strider was damn good at creating an atmosphere.  
  
"What are they?", asked Frodo  
  
Strider turned his hooded gaze upon him, "they are the nine...."  
  
Meanwhile the ten Nazgul gathered outside room 7. Room 9 had been empty but room 8 had contained two young women, their conversation had been annoying in the extreme....  
  
"Egwene do you think my dress looks indecent?"  
  
"No, what about my hair? Does it go with this gown?"  
  
"Of course"  
  
"That was a little quick are you mocking me?"  
  
"No.....but maybe I should..."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean? You're not the Wisdom anymore!"  
  
"I never said I was"  
  
"but you still think you are"  
  
"I think you should give me more respect, have you lost all sense of decency?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That skirts too short you harlot! I can see your ankles!"  
  
"At least I don't talk to men! And when I do I act like a complete bitch, unlike one whore I know!"  
  
"Are you calling me a whore!"  
  
"Well I'm not the one who said "thank you" when that drunkard held open the door for us tonight"  
  
"I never did such a thing! How indecent! I hate men just as much as you! They're all wool heads if you ask me!"  
  
(It was here that Pippin burst through the door and personally killed them both) Pippins evil heart leapt in his chest when he listened outside the door of room 7. A slightly girly voice with bucket loads of innocence, verging on wussiness was speaking. It must be Frodo! The ring bearer, the one he must kill. For a instant Pippin knew that killing Frodo was not what he should be wanting to do, but it was only for an instant before evil once again took hold of his mind. There were two young men speaking behind the door, the other sounded very much like Sam.  
  
"I wander what Allanon wants me to do with the sword of Shannara?" (worried Frodo like voice)  
  
"I don't know, hit people with it maybe?" (Sam like voice)  
  
(Long Pause)  
  
"Any way we should first concentrate on getting to Culhaven" (Sam like voice)  
  
"You're right brother. We should recruit a Prince of Leah"  
  
"Maybe... what do you think will happen after that?"  
  
"We'll probably get to Culhaven.... Form a fellowship, I'm guessing it will include an elf, a dwarf and probably a man who turns out to be a king...." (confident, but still girly Frodo voice)  
  
"From then on it's a simple matter of sword fighting until we meet the bad guy at the end" (assuring Sam voice)  
  
"Yeah, I suppose it'll all be straightforward right?" (Ironic, girly Frodo voice)  
  
"Wrong!", said Pippin who stood silhouetted in the open doorway with an action man pose.  
  
The two young men were not Frodo and Sam, but looked extremely similar. And both looked as shocked to have had their door bulldozed by a group of malicious looking black cloaked strangers.  
  
"Aaaaaah!", squealed the Frodo-like one, "save me Flick! I am too much of a girl to defend myself!"  
  
Which made Pippins job a lot easier. The one who looked like Sam, Flick, lasted a bit longer, but was easily skewered on the long sword of a Nazgul.  
  
"Thisssssssss issssss funnnnnn", said a Nazgul, his sword dripping with blood.  
  
Pippin agreed.  
  
"One by one they fell to the power of th-"  
  
"What was that!", Frodo interrupted, they had all heard scuffling noises from next-door. Frodo was certain he'd heard a girl scream as well.  
  
"Oh nothing", Strider waved away, irritated that his story had been interrupted  
  
The hobbits exchanged uneasy looks, "The Nazgul can't get us here can they?", Merry shivered.  
  
"Definatly not!", Strider confidently affirmed, "they would never dare, I mean they would not only have to break into the inn, but first get past that old man on the gates. At the hobbits doubtful faces Strider continued, "He keeps a pretty sharp stick in his cabin you know!"  
  
Pippin and his nine friends gathered outside room 6. By the sounds of it a man was telling a story inside...  
  
"Where was I? Oh yes – one by one they fell to the power of the ring..."  
  
One of the Nazgul shifted impatiently.  
  
"Letssssssss jussssssst kill them....."  
  
Pippin agreed, "Alright..... but there's something I....need....to....do...first.....must go.....to....outhouse...back soon"  
  
The Nazgul watched as the smallest of their number walked rather stiffly down the hallway. They waited until he was out of sight.  
  
"Letssss kill now...", suggested one  
  
They all nodded agreement.  
  
THUMP! The door to room 6 strained against its hinges, but didn't open. Inside the room the three hobbits jumped out of bed in terror. Strider, who had opened the window to enhance the "atmosphere" nearly fell out of it in surprise.  
  
THUMP!  
  
"Oh shit it can't hold for much longer!" cried Merry  
  
Strider leapt across the room and grabbed his sword. Sam positioned himself protectively in front of Frodo.  
  
They waited. Waited for the next charge that would surely break the doors lock. Nothing happened.  
  
Then a discreet knock, followed by...  
  
"Room sssssssservice"  
  
"Ah! What did I tell you? Nothing to worry about. Probably old Butterbeer is trying to sell his body again. I'll tell him no.....far too hairy..."  
  
The hobbits watched open mouthed as the ranger strolled to the door and opened it. It was quite possibly the stupidest thing they had ever seen. Although the sight of nine tall black cloaked Nazgul still came as a shock to Strider.  
  
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!", the ranger raced across the room and heroically dived out of the open window, his sword forgotten on the floor.  
  
The nine advanced into the room, long swords glinting in the candle light. Out of the hobbits, Frodo was the first to react. He dived for Strider's sword, tossed it to Sam and shouted, "hold them off brave Sam, whilst I escape through the window!"  
  
The Nazgul hesitated when they saw Sam.  
  
"sssssssssshit not hiiiiim again.....", the one with jam stains on his robes hissed.  
  
Luckily this pause was enough time for both Frodo and Merry to escape through the window.  
  
The fall wasn't too bad, and Frodo allowed Merry to go first which gave him a softer landing. Strider was no where to be seen.  
  
"That was painful", said Merry, who had landed on a small cactus, which really had no right to be there at all, being as it was, one of the authors shameless comedy devices.  
  
From above the clash of steel on steel reminded the hobbits that they were not out of danger yet.  
  
"Can you run?", asked Frodo as Merry detached the cactus from his stomach.  
  
"Yeah"  
  
"Wait for me!", the voice was Pippins  
  
He came running around the corner of the Prancing Pony. At first glance both hobbits knew that Pippin was no longer under the rings evil thrall. His brow was no longer deep-set, his eyes were no longer narrowed in suspicion and his mouth no longer snarled.  
  
"Pip!", Merry shouted gleefully  
  
"You'll never guess what I just found in the outhouse!", he held aloft the one ring, it glinted golden-brown in the moonlight. He went to hand it to Frodo. Frodo declined, "Um... maybe you should wash it first. And your hands"  
  
At that moment Sam leaped out of the window, Striders sword in hand, and came up in a roll. He brushed himself off.  
  
"Well, I've locked two of them in the wardrobe, ones pinned to the wall with his own sword and the others are locked in room 8, but it wont take them long to get free!"  
  
Frodo nodded, "well we best get a head start on them"  
  
The reunited hobbits jogged down the narrow streets of Bree. Along the way Pippin explained how he couldn't remember anything that happened to him recently.  
  
"At least the ring is out of you now Pip", said Merry  
  
"Yeah, at least the constipation left me before I did anything really bad"  
  
"Yes", Merry agreed, "You must have been so steeped in evil that you could have killed one of us "  
  
"A miracle no one was killed", said Frodo  
  
They found Strider waiting for them at the village gates. He was picking spines out of his clothes (he had landed on a porcupine). It seemed everything had turned out alright, Frodo reflected. Pippin was back, the ring was recovered, they had a new ally, hardly the sort who turned out to be a king..... but an ally all the same. Just on thing was bothering him...  
  
"Without Gandalf where are we going to go now?"  
  
"Into the wilds!", exclaimed Strider, snatching his sword back off Sam.  
  
"The wilds?"  
  
Strider pointed, "Those grassy bits. Don't worry I'll lead you!"  
  
Disclaimer: Borrowed characters from Robert Jordans "Wheel of Time", and Terry Brooks "Sword of Shannara". I do not own them. Besides they're dead now....  
  
Next time: Striders leadership comes into question and there's lots of singing involved.... 


	15. Into the wilds

Disclaimer: LOTR is not owned by me.......yet.  
  
Foreword: There is no singing in this chapter. Despite saying the contrary at the end of my last update. This is due to cut-backs and a lack of government funding. And terrorism.  
  
The ring lay quiet in Frodo's pocket for most of the next day. He suspected it had something to do with its recent journey through Pippins digestive system. The ring had been demoralised. On his part, Frodo enjoyed this new silence but towards the end of the day he heard it sniggering from his pocket when he tripped on tuft of grass.  
  
"Mr Frodo!", Sam dived and caught Frodo just before he fell.  
  
"Careful there", warned Strider, who himself stumbled into a small thorn bush.  
  
"Ah!", said the ranger, "Now everyone should watch closely"  
  
By his tone, Frodo knew Strider was about to spew yet more advice on surviving the wilds.  
  
"As you can see, this bush I'm currently in has thorns. An unwary traveller, not learned in the way of the wilds could come to harm in such a situation. However, as long as they remember the golden rule – to make one quick movement instead of slowly picking their way out, then they should get out with no ill effects."  
  
Strider lunged forward. The hobbits heard a tearing sound and the ranger yelped.  
  
Frodo rolled his eyes.  
  
"How are you going to get your pants back?", asked Pippin.  
  
Striders rough spun pants were now ripped in two. Half of them were lodged in thorns.  
  
"Well...."  
  
The hobbits noted he wore incredibly out of fashion dwarf Y-fronts. Inside out as they were, a red bearded dwarfs face could be seen, embroidered in the centre.  
  
"Gimli wear", Merry commented to Frodo who nodded.  
  
Gimli was a world famous dwarf said to have immense sex appeal. Even Elven Maidens lusted after him, and if the tales could be trusted he had even had an affair with Lady Galadriel. Frodo himself had owned a pair of Gimli brand thermal socks when he was young and Bilbo had a Gimli teapot. Of late though, the dwarf's popularity had waned. Frodo hadn't worn the socks in years, but it didn't surprise him that Strider still wore Gimli merchandise.  
  
Later, after much cursing and scratches, Strider managed to retrieve his pants from the thorn bush. While they had been occupied with this no one had realised how dark it was getting. The last vestiges of day were sinking pinkly into the hills.  
  
"I think we should set up camp", suggested Sam  
  
Everyone agreed. "Come, I know a good place", said Strider knowingly, he slung his pants over his shoulders, he would have to sew them up later. The stars winked brightly in the night sky as Strider led them into circle of ruins.  
  
"This was once the watchtower of.....um....well I can't remember the name now, how did it go?"  
  
Whatever doubts Frodo had about Striders competency he had to admit these ruins were a good place to camp for the night.  
  
"Ah! The watchtower of Ikilbob! That was the name. Yes they used to do some fine watching here. That was before the.... Um great war of course"  
  
"Which war was that?", Asked Pippin, who was always curious.  
  
"Did I say war? I meant wars. Yes, the great wars"  
  
"Was the watchtower attacked then?", there was more than a hint of scepticism in Sam's voice.  
  
".....Yes...by....um the.....Great Pig of Doom. Anyway, that's all in the past now. What we should concern ourselves with at the moment is mending my pants, can anyone sew?"  
  
The hobbits shook their heads. However, seeing the despairing look on the rangers face, Frodo volunteered to give it a go.  
  
"Great!", said Strider, "Now does anyone have any thread?"  
  
Later that night Frodo awoke to find his mouth watering with the succulent smell of sausages, bacon and tomato. He sat fearfully bolt upright. Sam and the others were crowded around a camp fire. Strider had tied his torn trousers around his waist like a kilt.  
  
"Don't worry Mr Frodo, I saved you some"  
  
But hungry as Frodo was, he had a more urgent concern. What if those black riders saw the camp fire! He quickly berated the others on this.  
  
"Don't worry", Pippin said happily, "Strider said the Nazgul don't have eyes"  
  
"That's right!", the ranger reiterated, waving a forked sausage, "they hunt through their unnatural senses, not by their eyes"  
  
Frodo resisted the urge to stamp out the camp fire there and then.  
  
"So what you're saying is that those black riders are blind?"  
  
"...............yes"  
  
"Then why don't they go around bumping into things?"  
  
Strider looked uncomfortable for a moment, then said, "Oh yeah"  
  
But before the hobbits could distinguish the fire, nine long shadows spread out across the ground.  
  
"Shit!", shouted five voices at once  
  
"Oh dear", the ring chimed in  
  
"Too Eassssssy", the lead Nazgul hissed  
  
Amongst the panic, Strider was the first to gather his wits. This was probably down to his ranger training and survival experience in the wilds. Instinctively he ran away.  
  
The nazgul drew their swords as one. Frodo turned to run, but hit his head on a jutting rock.  
  
"Aaaaaah that really hurt!", he managed, before collapsing in a dazed heap.  
  
The Nazgul advance upon Frodo was cut short when Sam leapt defensively in front of his master.  
  
"Get back you devils!", he yelled.  
  
It seemed to work. The Nazgul stepped backwards as one. They had battled Sam previous to this and knew to treat him with respect. Despite the brave hobbits weapon only being a frying pan the Nazgul spread out and approached cautiously. It was just as well. Sam's panmanship was second to none.  
  
"Get em Sam!", shouted Merry, who had climbed up onto an over-hanging wall where he could survey the battle in safety.  
  
"Yeah!", Pippin joined his friend and hurled a sausage. It spatted wetly on the one of the Nazguls cloaks and dribbled downwards in a fatty trail. The Nazgul in question hissed in annoyance, he already had several stains on his cloak, curtasy of a kitchen skirmish with Sam, back in Hobbiton.  
  
Confidence boosted by his friends support, Sam was the the first to strike. His pan got under the guard of the nearest Nazgul and delivered a ringing impact to its faceless head. Other black cloaks advanced as one staggered away dazed. Swords clashed with pan in a flurry of sparks and Sam was forced to retreat a few steps. It looked bleak for a moment as the hobbit looked like he would be cornered against the wall, but Sam fought back furiously, taking two Nazgul down with an arching pan slash while he tripped another with a bit of fancy footwork. Merry and Pippin whooped. Spurred on by the moment Sam broke through the line of black cloaks and grabbed two fiery logs of wood.  
  
"Its time to light up this party!", he said  
  
One log flew straight into a Nazguls face, which by the sound it made, didn't like it very much. The second he swung caught another's cloak on fire.  
  
One of the Nazgul raised it sword in the air. "Run awaaaaaay"  
  
Next chapter: Arwen, Glorfindel, the real reason why Gandalf didn't turn up at Bree, Striders Y-fronts and the council of Elrond. No songs.  
  
P.S Help fight the war on terror by reviewing this chapter. 


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